Soliloquy in Adagio
by marooned candor
Summary: At age sixteen, Rin sees the world erupt around her. Denial is a powerful curse, but dishonesty is sometimes the best policy. Because what transcends lifetimes is not always for the best. DISCONTINUED
1. Princess Supposedly

**Author's Note:** The idea for this story happened really suddenly, but I thought I'd just go with it. Anyway, hope you enjoy! Please review!

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**Chapter 1  
Princess Supposedly**

**Summary:** At age sixteen, the world erupts for her. Denial is a powerful curse, but dishonesty is sometimes the best policy. Because what transcends lifetimes is not always for the best. Caught in the middle of entangled lies and deceits, Rin learns that oftentimes the answers we need are just beneath the exterior. The engagement between her sister and a strange man breaks open a dam as centuries-old secrets are revealed. When she is married to the man herself years later, Rin must cope with the horrible consequences of selfish love that stemmed from a life she cannot remember.

_This is a memento for you, and only you. Think of it as a thousand years' worth of friendship. A gift, if you will, from me to you. For all that you've done and all that you will do (in this life or whenever we meet again). But please, don't ever let the others read this. I think I'd die of shock. A premature grave, imagine that._

**Tokyo, Japan: _Present_**

I saw them today, all of them. Crying for some reason, and for the slightest second, I was confused. And then I remembered. _Oh_.

Oh.

Then it hit me, hard and fast right in the stomach. I woke up, quick and bright, just as the sunlight was starting to stream and spread across the room, branching out its delicate fingers and stroking my face, eyelids, and forehead. I felt funny, un-trapped, not-trapped, not-in-this-body sort of feeling. The weird jolts and jilts that you get when you're getting over a hang-over, and the alcohol from hours ago has not completely disappeared yet.

And that's when I _really_ remembered (_oh_) and everything became clear in that instant too. And for once in my life, I am not scared anymore.

And I'm floating away on this cloud, happy and content.

**Tokyo, Japan: _Past_**

I started high school this morning, and nearly died. Of suffocation and a thousand discontents and misunderstandings. I could have soared away in the sky anytime today, and no one would have noticed. No one ever noticed the others now. We're standing in this boiling cauldron, and all I thought of was what I was going to eat later that day. Or how ridiculous the uniforms were, and how we all looked like perfectly trained circus animals.

Jabbering, yelling, and laughing. Having a good time, you know. Just being stupid and childish. The kids we were—are.

I woke early that day, at dawn or some time close, I still remember the moment lucidly, and dressed and ate breakfast and performed other mundane things. Like finishing up the last of the summer assignment I purposely neglected to do. And when that was all set, I rushed out the door and ran the three blocks down to the nearest station.

And there, I said: My New Life Is Starting Here. Here and now, I was going to be a different person—_entirely_ different—no more of that awkward, wallflower girl from middle school.

I was going to be pretty, magically (like everyone else did) and get good grades, have an excellent life, and at the end of it: some education (perhaps) and a feeling of self-worth (definite). And then, if by the merest shred of any phenomenon left, I was going to meet The One.

You know, The One crush you can never forget, the one whose presence will haunt you even years later when you are married to another. The childhood love that we all see in romance films and novels the solitary boy filled with grace and laughter, the one every girl needed to know. I needed to know. So I could be prepared, and collected, and calm and oh-so-very sophisticated for life. And somehow, I wanted to be just like Kagome. And somehow, as I am thinking of this now, that was all I ever wanted to be.

Like Kagome. Self-assured, self-determined, self-everything. Because Kagome was perfect in my eyes, for all the aggravations she embodied and did, she was perfect. My ideal. My bold, unapologetic, rash, and reckless sister. Whom I both hate and love. Even now.

"Rin, wake up!"

I turned my head, still a bit sleepy and dizzy from the bright sunlight and humid afternoon air. Sango stood in front me, towering, which was remarkable considering she herself was barely medium height. I smiled in a dazed kind of way and asked what happened.

"You fell asleep, dummy," she said, exasperated.

I laughed, "I guess I did. Oh well, it's not like I have missed anything. It's _only_ the first day of school."

"_Only_! I already have hours of homework to do tonight. It's terrible. Why do parents feel the need to torture us like this? And…and…I have to baby-sit Kohaku tonight too."

That made me grin only more. "But it's not like Kohaku's a bad kid. He's so nice and _obedient_. Strange for a kid that age. Strange for _any_ younger sibling."

She sighed, dramatic and pouty like. "I suppose. I'm just too much of a bitch, I guess."

Sango giggled, and I did too. Her infectious laugh hitting me hard, and I pinched her ass, jokingly, and she swapped my hand away. Mock-offended at my audacity.

"Sooo, now that Kagome is out of school, what about you? Are you gonna take on a new course of direction or copycat her to the last detail?"

I frowned. "Graduate school is hardly relevant to high school. They're like two completely different universes. And besides, I couldn't care less about Ka-go-me right now. I am here to enjoy _my_ life."

"Okay, okay. No need to get so touchy. I was only asking. Oh, and speaking of touchy…here he comes."

I turned my head around immediately to the direction Sango was jutting her finger at. And I must admit (to her absolute horror should Sango ever discover) that I was slightly amused.

"Hello, Miroku," I called out cheerily.

Sango shot me a dark look and gave him a darker one still. "Hello, Monk," she said.

"Sango, dearest," he replied, all sweet and endearing and undeniably false, "I wish you would stop calling me that. I am not really a monk, you know. Can't we let bygones be bygones? Can't we start afresh?"

She glowered even more but acquiesced slightly in the end. She always did. "Fine. But I swear, you try to pull that stunt again I'll chop you up faster than you can blink."

"Agreed."

"Say," Sango began hesitantly, her eyes focused and sharp like daggers, very strange and piercing, "who is that guy over there?" She pointed at someone approaching us.

And for a second, a spasm of shock and pain flooded over my face. I could hardly breathe and panted in guttural rasps for air. The wave of familiarity and loss hit me so hard I thought surely I had died and gone to heaven and met some long-deceased relative. But the boy was every bit as alive as I was then. And when he came over, his silver hair danced prettily in the sunlight. And I was sure (there was no mistaking this feeling) he was someone I had met so long ago.

"Miroku!" he shouted happily and slapped Miroku on the head. A playful gesture, I am guessing. Only Miroku winced in pain and punched him back—hard.

"Inuyasha, you moron. That hurt. And I need my brain intact if I'm gonna pass this year, thank you."

I laughed at that. What he said was absolutely true. Miroku was nearing the end of his high school career, and so far, the teachers haven't been exactly impressed with him. Oh, they've been impressed by his family, his background, but him? Not so much. Disappointed, definitely. But still not stupid enough to affront him. Or his monetary donations, for that matter.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. School is gonna suck this year. Last time we'll ever be in this place. I guarantee it," Inuyasha added.

"Who knows, maybe I'll be outa here sooner than soon. Anyway, Inuyasha, meet Sango and Rin."

Miroku pointed toward us. I smiled shyly, which grew only broader as Inuyasha beamed like ten thousand light bulbs. I don't know why but it felt like I've known him my entire life. Which was impossible since the only time I ever met a man with silver hair…so it couldn't have been that. But still, the feeling persisted and soon, I thought myself as enchanted. Or ensnared. Because maybe he wasn't the good guy, maybe he was the bad kind. Or maybe I was just thinking too much. I had a tendency to do that when I was younger, you know.

"It's nice to meet you, Inuyasha," Sango said.

"Yeah. So, Miroku told me that you guys were going out. Is that right?"

Sango blushed furiously and attempted to conceal her mortification and excitement. No such luck. "Oh…um, no. Actually, we're just friends."

_Yeah right_, I thought amusedly. I've never met two people in so much denial before them, Sango more than him. The way they acted, it was like they were meant to be. Destined and born to be completed by the other. Of course, Sango fervently denied this and declared it to be my overactive imagination at fault again. At which I could only sigh and tease her some more. She was very cute when she blushed. And I think that was partially the reason Miroku was so taken with her.

There was no tomato all the redder in the world. And sweeter too, I am guessing.

"Anyway, kiddies, let's get going to class. Can't be late again on the first day," Sango urged us to get moving. Which we did, grudgingly. She had an on-time dedication that after all these years I still found to be a mystery.

And as we were moving along the hallways, going against the sudden inundation of students traversing everywhere all at once, I noticed that Inuyasha still hadn't stopped staring at me. I turned my head, tried to ease myself of the sudden discomfort but somewhere in the back of my skull, I felt his eyes boring a hole there. On the nape of my neck, the most sensitive part of the spine.

I tried to shrug it off as nothing throughout the day. That part was easy considering the difference in our grade levels meant I shared no class with him. With the one exception being math. I was always a science and mathematics freak, obsessed as my mother put it sometimes. And so, I was placed in a higher class level than was usually permitted. Which was ironic since normally I could barely scrape by a passing grade for literature and subjects that required more…nuances. Not that it mattered much. Mama had my life all planned out. And that was the frightening part: knowing how your life will play out before you lived it. And knowing there was no stopping a set course.

"Hey," Inuyasha tapped me on the shoulder gently.

But I was still startled and jumped in my seat. I turned to my left and smiled reluctantly at him. "What is it?"

"Can we talk? After school today or something?"

I was deadlocked, embroiled, in something I know I would infinitely prefer escape from. But how could I reject his offer? Again, the familiarity and inexplicable, unfounded urge of trust pumped through my veins, surging—thumping—with my blood.

"Yeah, sure. Where do you have in mind?"

"Meet me by the west doors right after school."

"Umm, okay. Just out of curiosity, is this important?"

His smile was restrained and mixed, not something I was anticipating for. "You could say that. Just meet me there, okay? No matter what happens."

"All right."

And that was settled, and so it commenced. And so, you see, I had no choice over my future. Not like you or anyone else in that matter. How could I chose? How could I defy fate and destiny and everything? You probably think I am a coward, blaming my miserable situation on something out of my control. But I am telling you: this was how it happened, this was how I ended up like this.

And to this very moment, I keep thinking: was it punishment for something? And in my gut, in my heart, in the most base, animalistic, and truest part of my brain, I know: it was. It always has been.

The die is cast, and there is no escaping. No changing. That would be cheating, you see. And you can't ever cheat the gods more than once.

So, you can just imagine my deepest surprise and secret euphoria when Inuyasha smiled at me. It was strange, I admit. And I didn't know why but it felt so comforting, like it was meant to be. And now you probably think that I'm some silly woman thinking of love-at-first-sight but that's not the case. Or it might have been. I don't know.

I don't know anything anymore.

**Tokyo, Japan: _Present_**

One of my longest friends came over last month (or was it the month before that?). In any case, she came over and offered to write down my life as a memoir. A book. I was astounded and stared at her for a solid ten minutes without speaking. And when I finally was able to regain full function of my tongue again, she cut me off at every convenience.

"Try to understand, Rin," she said kindly, "This isn't just for _you_. I mean, of course it'll be about you, your life, your story. But it's for every woman in the world. You'll be doing them a great favor."

I raised my eyebrows sharply at her so-called elucidation. "A favor. How?"

"Well…it'd be like a self-help book for women stuck in shitty marriages. And how one day they miraculously woke up, realized about their own self-worth, and dumped the jerk. Sort of like creating your own happily-ever-after out of misery. Brilliant, huh?"

"No, it's not. First of all, I don't really appreciate the idea of my personal life being put on display like that and secondly—"

"Oh come on, Rin! Don't be so ridiculous. It's not like the entire _universe_ doesn't already know about your tragic marriage. This is just the _world_ we're talking about."

I flinched at the underlying caustic tone of "tragic marriage". I suppose I shouldn't feel the urge to laugh, but I did, and that was what made it worse (for everyone else). The fact that I couldn't reconcile with him was appalling to my mother and friends and acquaintances and even the spiders dangling from my ceiling. I didn't understand why. Things change, people change, and some things were never meant to be. Like me and him, like…like sometimes, I felt me living in this world. Incompatible. Forever.

"Yes, but still. It'd be too awkward. Just let it go already."

"No."

"Oh? And why not? Don't I have any say in this matter?"

"I'm afraid you don't, Rin. Because honestly! If I left it up to you to decide, I'd be eighty-five and dying before I got an answer."

"No, just an answer you _want_." She laughed at that.

"True. Anyway, I will be here every afternoon for however long it takes for you to divulge your scintillating tale of romance, drama, and pain. How does that sound?"

"Bad. In more ways than one."

She rolled her eyes, her eyelids twitching like butterflies taking flight. "I will be here promptly at three every afternoon. And don't even try to come up with some lame excuse to get out of it; we both know you have nothing else to do."

I merely sighed and watched her go. She was right: there was nothing I could find to occupy myself with. I was either sleeping, thinking of sleeping, or getting sleeping most of the time now. Falling asleep, that was my occupational hazard. So, if you think that I am explaining my life to you (like I am right now) then you are sorely mistaken. It's not my own free will, not my choice at all but something I could absolutely not avoid. But somehow, I found myself enjoying this. An emotional catharsis, letting out the bad so the good could flow in. If there was any good.

That was until Inuyasha called. An _emergency_, he put it. And again, I found myself sympathizing with him. And again, it made me wonder if Kagome and I should've switched husbands.

_That_ would be like a dream come true.

**Tokyo, Japan: _Past_**

The rest of the day sped past quicker than I could blink. My classes were dull for the most part; unlike Kagome, I was never the studious type. I participated and compelled myself to live up to Mama's expectations but fell short of anything beyond. I had no sense of accomplishment or failure. To me, things will turn out how they were meant to turn out: some sort of distorted, grotesque destiny-belief. That was what I advocated back then (now, it's a different matter but I will get to that in a while).

I remember that day clearly mostly because it stood out so sharply in the vast caverns of my memory. I remember the school uniform and the warm air from outside and even the lavender scent I decided to try on—a commemoration, I think, for my first day in high school.

The west doors that Inuyasha designated as our meeting place were also known as the "delinquents' corner". Not really that the bad kids had their rendezvous there so much as the fact that it looked so dilapidated and wild as compared to the other parts of the school. It was a very prestigious academy, you have to understand. But for as long as anyone could remember, the west doors never met the standards as the other ones. West, where things ended.

I could tell from his shuffling feet that he'd been waiting for me for a while (even though I ran out as soon as the bell rang). And he did not look pleased, nervous, _anxious_.

"Hey," he called out. And tried to smile but it turned out to be grimace.

"Hey yourself. What's wrong?"

"Nothin', nothin'. I just wanted to talk, that's all."

"Okay…talk about what?"

"You've already met my brother, right?"

I paused for a second and sudden realized that he was talking about Sesshoumaru. I couldn't believe that I didn't notice immediately at first. Of course, I noticed the resemblance and suspected something but the very fact of me _not_ realizing sooner—I took that as a personal slight.

"Oh, yeah. Of course. Taishou. That's your family name, isn't it?"

He grinned sheepishly. "Yeah."

"And you guys are…brothers," I spat the word out like a curse. It felt disgusting to say.

"Yes. Half-brothers, actually. Different moms, same dad."

"Oh. Okay. So how does that concern me?"

He laughed at my bluntness. "Still haven't changed after all these years," he mumbled.

"What's that supposed to mean? Have we _met before_?" I whispered, feeling the surge of excitement coming on. The adrenaline of discovering hidden treasure pumping.

"Why? Do you think we have?" He leaned in closer, and I blushed furiously.

"No, it's just a stupid feeling. Anyway, continue."

"Don't deny your gut, Rin. It's always right."

"Well, right now, my gut is telling me to leave if you don't answer my question soon."

He laughed again. It was too charming to resist. "Yeah, so the reason why I'm here is to tell you: don't get pissed off at Sesshoumaru. He doesn't mean any harm. He's a…decent guy after a while."

I snorted contemptuously. "That's hard to believe. The guy's going out with my sister and I haven't seen him more than once or twice and only briefly for that matter. I don't think I'll be getting pissed off anytime soon."

"But for future reference, don't…let your impulses get the best of you. Try to hold them in. There's a reason for everything. And Sesshoumaru…seriously, he's not so…bad."

I frowned. The whole scenario was too bizarre for contemplation. Inuyasha sticking up for his older brother. In the first place, I had met Inuyasha only this morning. And as for Sesshoumaru…I haven't seen him in weeks (and I'm certainly not about to complain about that). I was exhausted and hot, and I couldn't care less about any of the Taishous.

"Look, Inuyasha, thank you for your concern, I guess. But I have no problem with Sesshoumaru, and unless he has a problem with me then this conversation is pointless. So if you'll excuse me—"

"Speak of the devil," Inuyasha interrupted.

I turned around and saw Sesshoumaru pull up in a shiny, silver Porsche. A new one, at that. Of course. What else would he be driving?

"Sesshoumaru, what the hell? I thought…" and Inuyasha trialed off mindlessly.

"Change of plans. Get in the car, Rin. Inuyasha, I'm sure you're already aware of the situation."

Inuyasha nodded like a mute puppet, his strings being pulled by a monster. I didn't move. I _couldn't_ move. This was just too weird.

"Get in the car, Rin," Sesshoumaru repeated the command. His voice grew icier (if that was possible) and I shivered despite the sultry heat.

"Why?" I demanded back, though I was ready to kill myself to get away from the damn humidity.

"Your sister is in the hospital," he replied, even and cool, not a trace of emotion revealed.

I gasped for air and like a lightening bolt that's hit me, I jolted into action. My legs walked themselves over to his car, and the rest of my body found itself obedient and eager. But my mind was racing and a million questions were bursting out of my mouth at once. I didn't know how I found the time to breathe.

"What happened? Is she all right? Is she dead, dying?"

"No. She is fine. It was a minor accident…incident."

"Which hospital? How far away? Does my mother know? And how do _you_ know? Why isn't my mother or someone else here to pick me up. Why _you_?" I knew that my tone was accusing, like this was somehow all his fault, like he could have prevented this, but I didn't care. I was seething with disbelief and anger.

"Be quiet," he hissed softly.

"No. I want answers. Tell me."

He slammed the door shut, nodded to Inuyasha, and turned to glare at me. My blood froze, and my heart stopped in mid-beat. He was terrifying.

"You'll find out soon enough. So shut up," and decided to add, "_Please_."

I nodded slowly. The bile in my throat refused to go down, and the churning in my stomach was only increasing it. He drove the car like a maniac but his body and face never altered for a second. Sesshoumaru remained controlled and resolute, but I could see he was having a difficult time maintaining an impeccable mien: his knuckles were turning whiter and whiter. The skin was too taut, nearly translucent.

The car rushed by like a blur, just like the scenery and the honking and screaming from other drivers—swerving to escape Sesshoumaru's insane driving. I couldn't breathe despite the inviting comfort of the air conditioner. Something was wrong, something irrevocably horrible had happened. And I, like usual, was on the outside staring in—an unwanted dog that no one would even throw the scraps to.

The hospital Kagome was confined to was in the middle of the city, a busy, important _monument_ for display. The doctors were the best, and so were the nurses. The rooms, the floors, even the dust, were too pristine. Too perfect. I knew I was in the wrong place when I entered (unfortunately, it also became a place I would frequent often in the years to come, sometimes on behalf of others but mostly because of myself).

A nurse led us to Kagome's room on the eleventh floor. I braced myself for what I would see, so you must understand that it is not because I was unkind or malevolent but it just felt so…appropriate when I expected some awfully brutal injury. Instead, my sister was resting contently with her head tilted backwards, surrounded by cloud-like cushions (nine hundred thread count, I recall). Courtesy of a very exorbitant donation to the hospital.

"Kagome," I said.

She looked up sleepily and smiled. "Hello, Rin."

"What happened?" I demanded, impatient and infuriated.

"Nothing. Don't worry about it."

"Don't worry?" I nearly shrieked. Sesshoumaru noticeably winced at that, sensitive ears and all. Stupid jerk.

"Yes. Don't. Worry. About. It. Sesshoumaru shouldn't have brought you here in the first place. But now that you are here, and you can see that I am perfectly fine, just go home Rin. And tell mother not to throw another fit."

I stared at her incredulously, my mouth hanging wide open and eyes popping out. I could not believe what she had just ordered me to do.

"Kagome," I began slowly, reminding myself that I did not come here for a contention, "Can you please tell me what's going on? First _he_ tells me something has happened and I better come here immediate and now _you_ are telling me nothing is fine, that I should leave. What the hell?"

"Rin, it was an overreaction. On my part, and on his. It was a small car accident, nothing monstrous. He shouldn't have brought you all this way here." She eyed Sesshoumaru quizzically (who merely raised an eyebrow).

"Fine. I see that I'm being a nuisance here. I'll just leave you two alone then."

"Not _nuisance_, Rin. But please, just go. And calm Mama down. She's probably about to explode right now."

Her eyes implored me to go, and as much as I detested the idea of being out of the loop, I left her and Sesshoumaru to their secret whispers.

It was six by now, and traffic would be horrendous if I decided to call down a cab. Our apartment was only a few streets away. I remembered passing this hospital numerous times (but never going inside it) for years while going to the elementary then the secondary school and later on to the shrine to help on the busiest days. Mama had long ago persuaded Grandfather to abandon the shrine as a place of habitation. It was now used as a tourist-attraction primarily and a sanctuary for the rare believers still left in modern Tokyo.

Not that Grandfather complained, after a while. His bones and joints ached incessantly, and getting evicted from the shrine was like a blessing in the disguise of a curse. That was how he put it, on a good day. On the bad ones, he merely complained.

As I walked, I thought of how to explain that afternoon's events to Mama, Souta, and especially Grandfather. Souta would take it quietly, and Mama would fuss and fret but in the end, won't do anything rash. But Grandfather would be absolutely enraged and demand justice (as to what _kind_ of justice, I have no idea). He would curse Sesshoumaru, which would be terribly amusing to witness. And even though Kagome called it an overreaction, I could deduce that that wasn't it.

But I was always accused of letting my imagination run untamed, run too free and fervid, so maybe I was wrong and it really was nothing. Except years later, when I was in the same hospital myself for a similar reason, I realized that I'd been right the first time. I always was.

And what Inuyasha said to me that day remained with me (from then till death): always trust your gut. Because it's the last thing that will ever betray you.

...

The days after Kagome's incident (as she put it delicately) sped past without much focus, like trying to read something with the wrong prescription glasses. The hazy mood of the post-crash days were emphasized by the incoming heat wave. Grandfather couldn't compel himself to do anything other than sit in the shade or hog the fan or air conditioner for that matter and complain. Mama tried to be reasonable at first and told us to be nice to him—he's too old for clear-thinking, that was how she put it. But after a while, she got fed up too, and that's when the screaming began.

Kagome returned home only once during that sluggish week. She was unresponsive, temperamental, and to put it mildly, insane. It seemed like there was something wrong with _everything_, and when I finally pinned her down and shouted at her, demanding to know what was going on, she acquiesced. Which was quite stunning in itself.

"So talk," I said, slightly mollified.

"About what?"

"About why you've been so horrible and moody lately."

"Oh, _that_," she sighed dramatically, "I suppose you wouldn't understand it."

I frowned. My face twisted into a harsh, ugly caricature at the way she pretentiously waved her hand. "Stop teasing me. Just tell me what's wrong, and I might actually help. I mean, of _course_ I'll help you if I can do it."

Her eyes shifted up slightly, and a mischievous grin crept into her tiny face. "Oh, really? You promise you will?"

"Sure, sure. Just tell me what."

"Well…the thing is…there's this charity event this Saturday. Sesshoumaru's mother is hosting it, and I told him I'd accompany him but now that I've got this stupid cast on, that's no longer possible. So I was wondering if you would please, please, _please_ go in my place?"

Oh, the nerve of that woman. She batted her eyelashes prettily, smiled up at me all sunshine and bubbles. And I could've just screamed.

"Absolutely not," I shot back.

"But you promised!"

"Then I take it back."

"You can't do that."

"But, _Kagome_, I'm no good at these things. Formal events, state dinners, and _dancing_. You _know_ how clumsy I am. And I'll have to wear a gown and everything."

"Yes, wouldn't that be gorgeous?"

"For you, maybe. You're good at those things. You live for them. I don't. So why can't you just suck it up and commit yourself, _like you promised him you would_?"

"I think you should go instead. And you can spend all evening torturing Sesshoumaru. I know you'd love that."

I was stuck, and she knew it. And the worst part was that her last line gave me the perfect incentive—something she knew I'd never overlook. So now, I was pinioned and fettered by my sister, doomed to some stupid event where I'll have to suffer through hours of feminine tribulations. Wonderful. I couldn't believe how agreeing to do her one small favor today would blow up into the gigantic mess of tomorrow.

Kagome took me shopping two days after she declared her mandate. She didn't take me directly; that would have been impossible with her condition. Instead, she had me leashed on the tightest chain imaginable, a second away from her cell phone. I went with Mama, in her place, as Mama so eloquently stated. But the ordeal was no less exasperating, even _more_ horrid to be honest. Mama had a predilection for the ornate, the flamboyant—the gaudy. And I simply hated that sort of style.

I walked from store to store, holding a cell phone to my year and Mama by my side, like two leeches stuck till infinity comes. My shoes cut and chaffed my feet, very painful. See, I still have blisters to this day. Only joking, of course. Oh, don't take this so seriously. Anyway, it wasn't until very late in the evening that I found one suitable enough.

The streetlights were already lit by then, and everywhere you could smell the delicious aroma from food stalls along the sidewalk. I can't tell you exactly how I found my dress. It might have been Mama who pulled me in or some strange scent (I know it sounds terribly implausible) that sort of…called me to it. Like I felt strings tugging in the deep cores of my heart. I couldn't ignore it, couldn't turn around and run away. And a flux of memories and eons I've lived and breathed, they resurfaced too. But it couldn't have been my life. I couldn't think, I just walked. Right on in.

So in I went and out came me and a dress. It was nothing fancy. Something simple. Always something simple.

And so it was: a white dress with some glass beading, down to my knees, a dipping neckline, and backless—something scandalous, something pure. I even felt half-pretty wearing it, can you believe it? Even to _this day_ I can barely stand the sight of dresses, bad experiences you can call it that. And white dresses are the worst. But that night, I didn't care. I felt special, like a princess floating around the clouds without cares and worries, and blood full of magic and possibilities.

"You look beautiful, Rin," Mama said.

I smiled at her, a genuine one. She hugged me, tight and long, and I stood there in her embrace happy and sad at the same time. I kept thinking that this won't—_can't_—last and somehow things will go permanently disastrous, and so it did. And it all began (really began, because this was like the prelude) when I went with Sesshoumaru in Kagome's place.

I dressed urgently that evening, everything had to be immaculate, impeccable, just _perfect_. Kagome did my make-up, and Mama did my hair. And I slipped on my shoes—that much they allowed me to accomplish. But despite the rushing that I felt, they took their time and it was already seven when I left the house.

Sesshoumaru was by his car, irritated but kept his vexation demure and silent. He opened the door for me, and I slid my way in. There was no conversation on the ride there, to the hotel. I stared straightly ahead, as did he. I suppose one of us would attempt some façade of a palaver but the efforts were futile. I was dreading the evening's event, and he was equally displeased at the outcome. He had been expecting Kagome to be there, sweet and attentive and knowing the exact degree of being both gracious and gregarious. I, on the other hand, knew the arts of only altercation and aggravation. So, perhaps I shouldn't blame him entirely, a small (very small) part of everything was my fault too.

We arrived promptly at eight; he was very fastidious when it came to the details. The sight was breathtaking. The Taishou family spared no expenses for the night's "festivities". Quote and quote by Kagome. Idiot.

The entrance was lit by thousands of fluttering lights, miniature candles and lanterns with their brilliance dancing. Inside was even more ornate. Mirrors lined against all four walls of the ballroom (where the charity dinner and later dance were being hosted) and the light from the towering chandeliers made everything shimmer like diamonds. I suppose I should've congratulated Mama on coaxing me into buying a white dress; I couldn't have matched the décor even more impressively. Flowers were set at every table, both exotic and traditional ones. But each centerpiece composed of two dozen (at least) roses knotted into a marvelous bouquet.

"I hate roses," I mumbled.

Sesshoumaru turned around and looked at me peculiarly. "Yes, I know. You never liked them."

"How do you know that?"

"I know a lot of things," he replied smugly (evasively). A slighted comment, a bit portentous.

I responded with absolute clarity, "And I hate you too. Why do I have to suffer and be punished?"

"If it is any consolation to you, I would never be here with you either if it was of my own choosing."

"Great. If we both feel so against this, then let me go."

"No."

"Oh? And why not?"

"Because my mother is coming this very moment," he growled.

I spun around, strained my neck looking for her. Sesshoumaru had gone tense and stiff next to me, and I was almost giddy with guilty pleasure knowing that someone could disturb him so much.

His mother walked with…how do you say it? A _je ne sais quoi_. There was something about her that was mesmerizing and terrifying. Obviously, the fact that she was at least five feet ten helped. And I, standing at least seven inches shorter, was quite intimidated. But she was a cordial lady, very polite but distant. And there was something in her voice that could make anyone flinch. Still, she was polite, and that was enough. I was surprised at her choice of attire though. She wore a long kimono that must've been a century old at least, antique and priceless. It was a blazing gold with the most exquisite design I've ever seen, intricate flowers woven and intertwining with cranes and other foliage, and even a miniature city from the Edo period. I openly gawked at it, unblushingly as was expected of my nature.

"Welcome, Sesshoumaru…and Rin, I assume."

"Yes, but how did you know that?"

"He's told me about you. And your sister. Our families have known each other for generations."

I tried to smile or at least say _something_ in acknowledgement to her statement but the words wouldn't come up properly. I especially felt ill at ease at the mention of my sister, like there was some insinuation I was missing, and that made all the difference in the game. My face betrayed my feelings and turned my crooked half-grin into a complete, puzzled grimace.

"I'm sorry but I don't think I've met you before this night."

She replies pleasantly, "Of course not. But it is wonderful to see you, Rin."

"You too," I mumbled back.

She turned and left, her shoulder blades rippling from her delicate back. It was surreal how she moved, so full of grace and ethereal beauty, like it was almost too unnatural, not human. She looked like a snake.

"Cold."

"What did you expect?" he answered.

"Nothing. I just…I don't know. I don't really want to be here, that's all."

He smiled slightly. "I know."

"I don't have to dance with you do I?"

I looked around me hesitantly and saw the couples waltzing and spinning around. My head was hurting just from seeing the swirling dresses and pristine suits. What was _wrong_ with these people? And what was wrong with me? What was I doing there?

"No."

"Thank God—"

"But you should."

"What? But-but _why_?"

"Appearances."

I stared at him dumbfounded. Here was a man who seemed like he could take on the world if he wished, and he cared about appearances? I couldn't wrap my mind around this information.

"Why do you care so much?"

"I don't."

"Then why…"

"Be quiet."

He placed his hands on my waist and led me into a dance. I looked up at him (the stark height difference was really starting to bother me) and felt the tension rippling between his. The muscles in his arms were taut and hard enough to resemble steel. I could barely move from being so stiffened by fear and anticipation. At that moment, I knew that something had gone irrevocably wrong and that everything—my life—would change. But still, I let myself continue dancing with him.

And I didn't know why. I never knew why.

"I've been looking for you for a long time," he whispered into my left ear.

I gasped and felt his hands becoming claws and digging into my flesh. For a second, I thought I saw red filming over the white of his eyes. And then, the music started to play.


	2. Lonely is Gorgeous

**Chapter 2  
Lonely is Gorgeous**

_Every May, my family would go on a picnic to the beach, a nearby park, anywhere tranquil and cheering. For most of my life, I hated these events. I thought of the all the fancy dishes my mother would prepare—standing all morning in the kitchen until she practically rooted herself to the floorboards. And I thought of my sister. I always thought of my sister. _

**Tokyo, Japan: **_**Past**_

I remember the day he came by my school, but I can't remember the reason (excuse) he used. He drove by in his shiny, new silver car and almost skidded to a stop. A few of my classmates shrieked in fear and excitement, and a few of the girls emitted high giggles. Sango rolled her eyes and looked at me knowingly. I knew what she was thinking. It was fleeting across my mind too, only I had the sense not to show it. She glared at him viciously through slit-eyes and hissed when he stepped out of the car. Subconsciously, Sango clutched at my arm and pulled me slightly behind her, protecting me.

"What are you doing here?" she asked him, "This is a closed campus school. Get out."

"Sango," I said quietly. I was scared for her. He wanted to strangle her.

"I own half of the school."

"Liar."

He smiled, a challenge. "What's your name?"

"None of your business. What do you want with Rin?"

"That's not for _you_ to concern. Rin, let's go."

"The hell it isn't. Rin, come _on_."

Sango tugged at my arm and I let her drag me, hanging loosely like a trailed off word or piece of cloth. Eventually, my feet found a rhythm of their own and I started walking, stepping alongside her in perfect synchrony. We were like two peas in a pod, inseparable.

But when I glanced over my shoulder—at Sesshoumaru, half out of curiosity and half out of fear—I saw the strangest expression painted across his face. It was something between anxiety and amusement. And I knew he was staring right at me too. And none of us could look away. There was a magnetic string tying us together, so that we couldn't even rotate our necks.

"Sango, Sango. Slow down."

"Hurry up. I don't want that lunatic following us around."

"He's not a lunatic, Sango. He's just…Kagome's boyfriend."

"What? Kagome is going out with a cold prick like that?"

"Well, he _is_ rich and has nice hair. So I guess he has some redeeming qualities."

"She's got a taste for youkai, doesn't she?"

I laughed. "Some would call that flirting with danger."

"Or with the enemy." Sango winked.

"He's not that bad."

"How do you know?"

"I don't. But from the few conversations we've had, I don't think he's a maniac or anything."

"But he's a youkai. They're unpredictable."

"So what? Kagome's the one going out with him. What do I care."

"No, but you like his_ brother_."

I blushed furiously and punched Sango lightly in the arm. "Shut up. I do not."

"Sure. Then what was all those looks and signals you guys were sending each other at lunch today?"

"Oh give it a rest."

I gave Sango a quick hug and entered the lobby doors of my apartment building. Sango was still laughing ridiculously loudly even from half a block down. I shook my head and walked in, greeted the smiling doorman (an old gentleman in his seventies) and checked for mail. Nothing but junk and bills. Scooping them up into my arms, I slammed against the elevator button with a bony shoulder.

The floors had obviously been cleaned only half an hour ago because as soon as I stepped inside, I could feel my feet slipping. Panicked and desperate to hold on, I grabbed someone behind me, not bothering to look up at his face. My hands searched for purchase on his expensive suit, but I could still barely stand up. My back ached from the heavy books and my arms were hindered by the envelopes and catalogues. The man held my arm and eased me into a stable position. I inhaled sharply to calm my nerves (and think of an appropriate, not-embarrassing way to say thanks) when my nose caught the familiar scent.

"Sesshoumaru," I said disdainfully.

"Rin. You seem to have a habit of falling."

"Maybe only around you."

"Or you're just clumsy."

"Ouch. That really wounded me."

I straightened myself up, smoothed out the pleats of my skirt, and hoisted the straps of my bag higher. And then squared my shoulders and looked at him directly in the eye (which was harder done than said given his intimidating glare and our height difference).

"We seem to run into each other unexpectedly," he said suddenly.

"What? Oh yeah. I guess so. Some might call that stalking."

I grinned. He did not.

Sesshoumaru frowned heavily and brushed past me without another word when the elevator stopped. Typical. I should have known. He was there to see Kagome. But why did he go down just to come up again?

"Hey, why are you here anyway? I thought Kagome called you already this morning to cancel your date or something."

"I was looking for you."

"For _me_?" I asked incredulously.

"Yes."

"But why were you—"

My question was interrupted as Mama swung open the door and pulled me in. The elevator doors closed behind us, a chilling indication of inordinately dolled-up doom. She kissed my cheek and pushed me inside the house and ushered for Sesshoumaru to enter too (much to my displeasure). He stepped inside lightly like a cat and examined the hallway. Not once did his expression change. I was beginning to think he was made of granite—at least the muscles around his mouth.

"Welcome, Sesshoumaru," Mama said cheerily, "Are you here to see Kagome? She's not home right now, unfortunately. I'll tell her that you stopped by."

"I'm here to see Rin, actually."

Mama and I both jumped in surprise. I stared at him, trying to figure out what he was getting at.

"Really? What-what for?" Mama asked hesitantly.

"She left this in my car last week."

He proffered forth my sequined purse (the one with tiny seed pearls, on loan from my mother). I blushed from embarrassment and reached for it. He side-stepped at the last second, and I nearly stumbled to the ground. I caught myself and spun around to yell. The indignation was eating away at me. I didn't care how important he was or that he was in fact my sister's boyfriend. I was simply pissed off.

"Hey! What was that for."

"You tripped; no need to shout at others."

"No. You _made_ me trip. I could've broken my neck!"

"Don't be so melodramatic."

"Mama!"

"Oh hush, Rin. Don't blame other people for your own clumsiness."

"But, I—"

Mama turned her attention towards Sesshoumaru. "Thank you very much for returning this. You shouldn't have gone out of your way."

"Not at all."

Still furious, I responded bitingly, "Yes. Maybe you should go now. Best not to wear out your welcome!"

"Rin!" Mama scolded.

"Watch it, human. Your manners will be the death of you."

"Is that a threat?"

"Yes."

I shot daggers into his back as he walked out the door as silent as a ghost. I hated him. I hated him so much: the way he mocked, how he talked, everything about him. And I especially hated how I couldn't do anything to stop him from worming his way into my family.

**Tokyo, Japan: **_**Present**_

Kagome stopped by for a visit today. I was rather unprepared for that (my hair tangled in a nest and my hands shaking from sleep deprivation and overdoses on painkillers and caffeine). She didn't exactly barge inside but wasn't gentle about her entrance either. She tsked and studied every detail of my deplorable housekeeping abilities and declared my apartment to be in shambles. I sighed and shoved past her to get the kettle before we drowned in boiling water.

It was a hot, humid May day. And I was no mood for any of her usual antics or tiresome optimism. Mama had already stopped by that morning, with baskets and containers of ready-made, nutritious meals. I thanked her listlessly and stashed them away inside the fridge (no doubt, I'll eat none of it). These days, I usually forgot that to survive, you needed to eat. The doctors were condescending about my eating habits, which they had every right to do so. But I had no appetite, and no matter how much they coaxed or how much _I_ tried, it made no difference.

Sango—who also stopped by after Mama left to inquire on my decisions of penning down a memoir—noted that it was probably a phase. I agreed, to some extent. I've always been thin to the point of being severely underweight. But usually, nothing fatal came out of it. Just one of those phases, you know. Everyone had "anorexic phases". I was just going through my hundredth one.

"Rin," Kagome started, "Have you…"

I immediately knew where she was going with this. This was the tone she used in discussing "him".

"No I haven't. I don't have time, Kagome."

"Well, you should. He wants to talk to you."

"How would you know that?"

"He and Inuyasha talked about it last night."

"That's a shocker. I thought they weren't on speaking terms."

"Usually no, but you've sort of pushed them to reconcile…some what."

"Ha, that's funny. Me? Push him into doing anything?"

"He's, umm, concerned about you."

She bit down on her lower lip and gave it a little nibble. It was her tell-tale sign of lying. She was a horrible liar.

"Then why doesn't he call me himself?"

"He's ah…_frightened_ of your reaction."

At this, I couldn't stop but giggle. The notion was absurd. For as long as I have known him, which had been all too long, Sesshoumaru was never frightened of anything. Least of all a human girl.

"Now, _that_ is priceless. You're a real comedian today, Kagome."

"Oh stop it. Say, why don't you stay with me and Inuyasha for a while? Just until you stop looking like death."

"That's sweet of you. No thank you. I'm still alive, aren't I?"

"I know. But it'd be better for everyone, especially you. It won't be permanent."

I sighed, "No it's okay. _Really_."

"If you insist."

I nodded, determined.

I was tired of people thinking of me as fragile and sickly. Sickly, maybe, but not fragile. I knew that they had good intentions and I was being a baby whining and bitching about it. But I was frustrated. Angry. Mad beyond grief. And just a bit envious too. Of Kagome, of Sango, of everyone who I knew with content lives and a set future.

I coughed, my lungs lurching around and throwing my body into a fit. Kagome rushed to get me a glass of water. When she returned, I hoarsely whispered a thank you. She sighed and gave me a small hug.

Deep inside, I wanted to thank her and apologize for all our stupid feuds and fights. And especially explain to her that I really don't mind she stole Inuyasha from me. Because I stole Sesshoumaru from her. So it had been a fair trade, on her part. As for me, I still kick myself every time I remember the events that led up to the (inevitable) exchange.

...

A week later, I received a call that I would rather not have. In the most ungodly hour of the night, the phone rang, jolting me awake. I reached groggily for it and snapped into the speaker. Sesshoumaru's apathetic voice greeted me.

"Oh great. What the hell do you want?"

"Don't you ever pick up your phone?"

"I'm talking to you now."

He was silent for a moment. I thought I heard a low hiss from the other end, but that might have been a dream. And when he spoke again, I knew I was running head-long into disaster. I had been ever since the day he proposed to my sister.

**Tokyo, Japan: **_**Past**_

Inuyasha quickly became notorious (but popularly so) in school. He was infamous for his wild parties; mostly due to the lack of parental supervision at his house, or mansion should I say. His father and mother didn't particularly care what he did as long as the police didn't arrive to arrest someone. The only instances he seemed to be tame were when his brother was home visiting. And those happened to be the nights he threw the craziest parties.

As one of the first people he was introduced to upon his arrival, I was invited much to my disconcertion and excitement. Sango, attractive and fearless as she was, agreed to go in a hearbeat. And as soon as _Sango_ said yes, Miroku jumped in half a second afterwards.

I had no clue as to what occurred at one of these parties, and I confessed so to Sango. She grinned mischievously and told me to meet her by the front gates after school. We would then go to her house to "prepare". I was perplexed. Why would any preparation take hours to accomplish? It was just a party. What else? But I gave consent and slipped the note deftly into her hands before our history teacher noticed anything.

"Come on, Rin!" Sango tossed skirts and shirts and cosmetics and accessories at me.

I was barely able to catch them before she draped a slinky silk dress over my arms. I piled them onto her already sagging bed (there was a whole department store on it) before sinking my fatigued body onto a nearby chair. My legs quivered from standing so long and my arms were about to fall off. But Sango was nowhere near satisfied or placated.

She pulled me up, twirled me around, and made visual measurements of my bust, waist, and hips. She mumbled incoherent numbers to herself and searched through the piles for miscellaneous items. When she emerged, she held a tight-fitting skirt and matching shirt set. From where I was standing, I could see the ensemble consisted mostly of lace and some sort of white cloth material.

I shook my head staunchly. There was no way I could bring myself to wear that outfit.

"Don't be a wimp, Rin. It's not that bad. It's really cute. No skin shows…not really."

"But it's so…tight."

"What? It's not like you have much of a chest anyway."

I blushed. "Thanks, Sango. That's nice of you."

"Just a joke. Hey, try it on. It's pretty, and I know how much you love lace."

"That's true," I said slowly.

She made small loops around the room while undulating the skirt, forcing it to dance as the wind from the window blew through it. It did look rather pretty. _Really _pretty. Downright beautiful. I couldn't resist. I took the skirt and top and slid it over my legs.

"Rin, you look hot," Sango said.

I jiggled my hips (for effect) and leapt onto her bed. Sango pounced on me and began to tickle me all over.

"Just watch! This party is going to be the talk of the _year_. Miroku's always telling me how awesome Inuyasha's parties are. And to think that we'll be going to one tonight!"

"And no parents?"

She grinned big and wide. "Nope. Well, his stupid brother will be there. But who cares? He's like thirty or whatever. Inuyasha said that as long as we stay out of his way, he's not going to kick us out."

I gulped. Inuyasha's brother. That meant.

I groaned loudly. "Not him again."

"Oh yeah, you don't like him right?"

"Scared is more like it," I mumbled into Sango's soft hair.

"Then I'll just have to be your guard tonight."

I looked at her. Her eyes were shifting slyly. "What do you mean?"

"You'll see!"

And off she ran, dashing into the bathroom, no doubt for more of what they called lipstick.

I breathed in even beats. Calm down. There was nothing to it. So what if the asshole was going to be there too? He was only going to be in the same _house_. It's not like I'll bump into him.

Inhale and exhale. Breathe Rin, I commanded myself.

I had a litany of excuses to say if I accidentally encounter Sesshoumaru on the way to the bathroom or something. I'll just say that I got lost, anything. Just to make it clear that I was not getting underfoot or whatever. But if I could help it, I wouldn't even run into him at all. There was no need to underscore the night I spent as his date. I shuddered even though it was relatively warm. My skin crawled with something unpleasant, like a million ants making their way up to my skull. No. Stop it. Nothing will go wrong. Like Sango said, I am here to enjoy myself.

Right.

I heard Inuyasha's house before actually seeing it. But when I opened Miroku's car door (he had been kind and lecherous enough to pick us up) I gaped at the size. It was anywhere from a small palace to an enormous manor. Music blasted from all angles and corners, and lights illuminated the entire street, which was part of the Taishou estate. The décor was elegant, ranging from imported, expensive masonry on the exterior to overly polished modern chic designs inside. Mrs. Taishou must have an artistic touch. Even the furniture seemed to move with fluidity. The floors were almost too beautiful to step on. And there were teenagers spilling beer and various soda onto the marble.

I grimaced. Inuyasha noticed and laughed. I stuck out my tongue but smiled and thanked him for inviting us.

"No problem. Have fun."

Sango grabbed my wrist and pushed our way into the middle of the crowd. She flashed her eyes around like a predator, and masterfully spotted her prey: the hapless traveling monk (or not so luckless as it turned out). After Sango drifted away, I vacillated between the urge to leave and sit in a corner and survey the commotion. People-watching had always been one of my horrid habits and profoundly ingrained passions. I was an expert at it. People never noticed even when I had been observing them for hours.

I saw a girl (sixteen-years-old, one of Inuyasha's acquaintances and a classmate of mine) making out with her boyfriend of two months. He was a fantastic athlete who dominated the tennis courts. Another couple was cuddling together on a couch. And numerous, far too many to count and describe, were dancing. I yawned and checked my watch. It was only twelve. No signs of Sango. Meaning no signs of Miroku or getting home. My legs began to fall asleep, so I stood and walked around to stretch the numbness away. I stepped over a boy passed out from too much booze (dehydration, my doctor-mind commented) and another one yelling loudly into his cell phone.

Partially out of boredom and partially out of curiosity, I decided to explore Inuyasha's house. The party was in one of the living rooms, and just outside it was a towering spiral staircase. I walked up (crept more like) cautiously. Beautiful Impressionist paintings lined themselves perfectly along the walls, each an equal distant apart from the next. This house was amazing. Upstairs, the marble turned to sanded, glazed wooden floors. I had to be careful not to slip from the recently applied wax. The stiletto shoes Sango supplied me with were difficult enough to manage without the extraneous factor of gloss.

Gradually I made my way down the hall, not daring to peek inside any of the bedrooms. Except for the third one to the right. Its door stood slightly ajar, and my naturally inquisitive nature ordered my feet inside. My hand found its way to the doorknob and turned the brass handle. I walked in and blindly searched for a light-switch.

"Gotcha," I whispered.

And when the lights flicked on, the room came to life.

The entire floor was covered in a lush, bouncy, white carpet with an enormous canopy bed in the center. A deep-red wood desk stood to one side while bookshelves lined the other wall. A window faced against the door, leading to a balcony. I moved towards the window like I was caught in a trance.

There was something glittering next to the table by the window, a piece of glass—I thought. Upon closer investigation, the glass transformed into a silver picture frame. Small and dainty with wrought flowers and ivy vines serving as borders. I held it against the moonlight and gasped. The woman in the picture.

It was me. Or someone who looked like me.

"Having fun?"

I quickly put the frame back and turned to face the voice.

Sesshoumaru.

"What? Oh no. Nothing."

"Snooping around. You're just as insufferable as the other humans."

"No, I wasn't. I just got lost. I-I was looking for the bathroom."

He cocked a silver eyebrow. "The one across the hall."

"I must've missed it. It was dark."

"There was a sign."

"I guess I just didn't see it."

"Stupid and nosy. Extraordinary how you've managed to survive this long."

My cheeks flared. "Go away."

"Not likely. You're in my bedroom."

"Oh. Sorry."

"So _you_ get out."

"Fine. Just tell me this: who was that woman in the picture?" I indicated towards the mysterious photograph.

"None of your concern. Go."

"She…she looks like me. Do I know her?"

He narrowed in, his nose nearly touching mine. I shivered and moved back till my legs hit against the soft sheets. They buckled and I collided against the mattress. Sesshoumaru pushed my shoulders into the bed and straddled my legs with his.

"What-what are you doing?" I asked.

He didn't answer, only leaned closer. My skirt was riding up (what was his hand doing on my thigh?) and I couldn't breathe. I took in sharp, harsh gasps of air and struggled against his arms. He strengthened his grip.

"Stop."

His hand was going higher.

He smiled brutally. "What's wrong? Are you scared?"

"Yes," I admitted grudgingly.

"Good."

He pulled at the skirt more and more, and started lifting my shirt. I tried to speak or scream but no sound came out.

"This is not right. You're dating Kagome."

"Shouldn't you be more disturbed about yourself?"

"No. You won't do anything to me."

"We'll see about that."

His hand was on my left breast. My skirt was already completely hitched up. And his other hand stroked the inside of my thigh.

"I said stop!"

He did.

I turned away, trying to stabilize my breathing. Sesshoumaru released his hold and brushed the damp hair out of my face. I twisted my neck trying to get away. And then his lips touched mine.

**Tokyo, Japan: **_**Present**_

My mother pulled back the canary yellow curtains and pushed back the windows. Hard. She lifted my blankets and tossed a sunny dress at me. I groaned sleepily and faced away from her and the lurid streams of light. She sighed and shook me awake.

"Mother, please, what do you want?"

"Get up, Rin. We're going to the park today."

"We. As in."

"You, me, Kagome, and Souta, of course. So hurry up and get changed. We're all waiting for you."

"Who let you inside the house?"

"Spare key, dear."

I frowned at her retreating back. I was not feeling at all happy or willing to go on a family picnic. We hadn't been on one (together and glad about it) since Grandpa became sick and sullen with age and glum. To be honest, we didn't talk much as a family anymore. Just some passing words on the phone and the occasional dinner at Mama's house. We were already estranged, but only Kagome and I could sense it.

My relationship with my family hadn't always been like this. A long time ago, when I was still in school, we were the quintessential example of a nuclear family. We could've been the picture-perfect poster image you see flashing on television about cozy comforts and familial love. And then things changed. Kagome got a boyfriend, started to deviate from her usual routine, ceased talking to us (me especially). Mama immersed herself in cleaning and maintaining the façade of a still flawless family. Souta began college, discovered the mystifying, alluring world of girls, and stopped coming home every weekend. As for me, I simply grew up.

Legs grew skinny and long, arms lanky and sharp. My transition from girlhood to adolescence had been painful. Brimmed to the rim with the throes of teenage angst and a wolf at the door. All these years later, even after _I_ was married to the wolf, I still couldn't forgive him. He came into our lives suave and dashing and unraveled everything. Leaving me to tie up the loose, frayed threads in the end.

"Rin!" Kagome called from the kitchen.

I searched for a bra and found no such luck. Eventually, I settled on a camisole (not that I actually required a bra anymore). Haphazardly, I ran a brush through my hair, ripping out messy tangles and smoothing the thin strands into something halfway decent. Kagome catcalled and Souta whistled when I entered. I couldn't remember the last time I wore a dress.

"Darling, you look gorgeous," Kagome said.

"If you say so."

"Oh, come on, be a little more perky. Just a bit. It won't _kill_ you, you know."

I sighed and forced up a smile and followed them out the door, taking one of Kagome's wicker baskets. She seemed relieved to have passed on the burden. No kidding, the basket must have weighed at least ten pounds—stuffed with food and silverware and whatnot Mama jammed into it. Ahead of me, Mama and Kagome were struggling to hoist the enormous baskets into the car trunk. I giggled. Aside from Souta, the other members of my family (including me) were petite and willowy. One of Mama's favorite stories to tell, though mortifying in the wrong company, is of all the trouble she had when giving birth. She would tell this story in a blithe way, waving her hands, and taking incessant sips from her champagne flute.

Her children could recall the story verbatim and visibly winced as she repeated the same tale every New Year's. Recently, Kagome had gained a new appreciation, nodding sympathetically. Souta and I bend over backwards from laughing as she patted Mama on the back and shook her head knowingly.

Souta's low voice snapped me out of my daydream, "Hey there, Spaceyhead."

"Hmm? What is it?"

"Nothing."

"Right," I responded skeptically.

"Well, have you talked to him lately?"

"What is up with all of you? It's not like my life revolves around the jerk. I think after our last encounter, it's pretty obvious where things stand. He refused both severance papers and even threatened to sue _me_ if I attempted to fax them over again."

"Really? That's a bit insensitive."

I rolled my eyes. "What do you expect? You've known him for years. You should know what type of person he is. Youkai, all ridiculous."

"Not Inuyasha."

I swallowed at the name. Inuyasha was another touchy subject in the family, but not as taboo as his brother. Inuyasha, I've come to accept over time.

"Yeah, well, he's only a hanyou. They're different."

"Hey, do you know which park we're going today?"

"No, tell me."

He did.

I stopped walking. My hands shook, balled up into fists, knuckles turning white. I was all too disgustingly familiar with the place. It was on the outskirts of Tyokyo, a tranquil piece reminiscent of better times. In the summer, white lilies and magnolia petals drifted on the lake, disguising themselves among the lilies, where you could rent a boat and go for a ride. And during the winter, there were singers and vendors lined along the lake's edge. Children came from all over the city to play there while their parents chatted, resting their aching feet on stone benches.

And in the southwestern corner, beneath a make-shift, miniature Shinto shrine, was an unmarked stone that served as an unmarked grave. Years ago, a dead girl placed it there and promised to visit the man on the anniversary of his death. She kept that promise alive all these years. (She could've killed herself for nearly forgetting.)

I walked down the beaten, worn path, and dusted off the granular surface. It felt cold against my fingertips, barren and forbidden. I kneeled down in the grass next to it and sat silently. A gentle breeze blew through my hair, and I thought of that life—what seemed like a thousand years ago.

**Tokyo, Japan: **_**Past**_

I woke up with bruises covering my back and shoulders. I felt like I had been sleeping on needles and ice. Shivering, I grabbed a blanket and covered my bare shoulders. The room spun and the air was hazy, but I managed to gain focus despite my throbbing head.

"Wake up, Rin."

"Huh?" I tossed around trying to clear my sight and saw Inuyasha hovering in the doorway. "Where am I?"

"My house, in my brother's room." He gave me a conniving look. "I won't tell Kagome if you won't. What did you guys do last night?"

"I…I don't remember. Nothing. I think I blacked out and when I woke up, it's morning. God! It's morning! Mama is going to _kill me_!"

Inuyasha sat down next to me; his weight lifting me up. I gripped tightly onto his arm for support.

"I feel terrible."

"You did have a lot to drink."

"What? No, liar. I didn't drink at all."

He laughed, "Got you."

"I hate you," I snapped halfheartedly.

"Come downstairs, Rin. Get something to eat and I'll drive you home."

"Okay, but first I need to call my mom."

"I already called her. She knows what happened, so don't worry about it."

"I should get going though."

"Yeah, just hang on a sec okay? I'll grab you a change of clothes and some water. You look like hell, you really do."

I tried to stand but my knees were weak and I collapsed. Thank God the bed was right underneath. I still couldn't remember what happened. Everything seemed like a blur, too fast and insane for comprehension. Something had happened, something terrible, and it annoyed me to no end that I couldn't remember. A lapse in memory, in time, it was a curse that would follow me until I was well past childhood.


	3. Time Spent in Waiting

**Chapter 3  
Time Spent in Waiting**

_Once someone asked me how much time I would spend waiting. How much of my life would be wasted by staring dazed and listless out the window as the world passed me by, as I became a shell and nothing else. _

**Tokyo, Japan: **_**Past**_

Inuyasha was as good as his word. He tossed me a pair of skinny, expensive jeans and a billowy top. I caught the ensemble and marveled at the soft material. _Hell, _I thought, _this family never does anything normal_. And as if by magic, Inuyasha grinned and winked at me before throwing me a glass bottle of sparkling water. I visibly groaned.

"Hey, don't be so shitty about it," he said.

"Excuse me? I'm not being anything except for grateful. And after what your brother probably did to me last night…"

He jerked up his head skeptically. "What _did_ he do to you?" he asked.

I hesitated, not quite sure myself (I felt like half of my head was missing that day and all the details filtered through the holes). I wanted to present a list of complaints and indignations but the reality was that I had nothing. I blacked out and whatever events transpired the night before was foggy and lost to me. Subconsciously I massaged my arms and winced. The pain had intensified and where the flesh was merely yellowing, there were large patches (butterfly quilt squares) of indigo, violet, and pale green. And that's when I remembered my fall.

"Umm, I don't remember," I admitted, not meeting his gaze.

"Did he…did he…"

"Did he what?"

He looked at me like I were stupid. Then I realized.

"What? Oh no! _Never. _I was probably just really tired and unconscious and banged myself up or something."

Inuyasha snorted. "You know, from you, it's actually very likely."

"I'm not always so clumsy," I responded lamely.

"Like hell."

"Don't worry about it, okay? We all know how goddamn clumsy you are. No big secret or anything."

I frowned in disbelief. "You really think so?"

He stopped sniggering and looked at me in all honesty and solemnity. "No."

I sighed at his blatant disdain and sarcasm. Youkai. Ridiculous, all of them.

"Thanks for the clothes," I murmured and took them limply.

I made my way to the bathroom (across the hall—fool) and shut the door tightly, clicked the lock in place, and sank to the ground. I peeled off my top and shivered from the morning chill. Slowly I pulled over the long-sleeved cashmere top Inuyasha gave me and snuggled for a second against its lovely softness.

Memory flooded me all at once. I remembered bits and glimpses of the night before, something about Sesshoumaru being an asshole (as usual) and waking up in the middle of the night. I was thirsty and moved my way groggily from the enormous bed to the bathroom. Only, I missed the door and walked—slipped—down the staircase, taking a tumble or two at it. How I managed to catch myself before doing some serious damage to my body was the mystery.

"You done yet, Rin?" Inuyasha called from the other side.

"Almost. Just one more stroke and I'll have brushed my hair a hundred times," I replied, dripping with sarcasm.

He sighed. "Yeah, yeah, yeah. Come on, I'll get you breakfast then drive you home."

I followed his lead down the hall, barely looking up from the plush white carpet. We walked down the spiral staircase. In the daytime, when the morning light was streaming through the sky-window above, the paintings and antique artifacts were even more breathtaking, but I had no heart to admire them. My mind was warped, wrapped, and withered. I was frightened and wanted to crawl into bed (my own) and sleep and forget that anything ever happened. But first, I wanted to kill Sesshoumaru.

My feet moved automatically and a swarming of bees commenced between my ears, sending off fried thoughts and half-muted grudges. I was so preoccupied with sorting everything out and thinking of a plausible way to relay it to Mama when Inuyasha gripped my hand. Hard. Like a signal he was trying to send me, I looked up (out of my reverie of goring a certain youkai) and saw that youkai sitting calmly at the table enjoying a plate of "barbaric, human food" and reading the morning papers. My breath started to quicken and my heart's rhythm swung out of regularity. At that instant, all I wanted was to hit him brutally across the face. And like he knew exactly what I was planning, Inuyasha rushed forward and pushed me into an empty chair.

"Sit and relax, Rin. I'll make your breakfast myself."

"Why so gallant this morning, Inuyasha?"

"What can I say? It comes and goes."

Before long, Inuyasha slapped an enormous pile of pancakes, eggs, and sausages onto my plate. I looked at the staggering mountain of food and felt a nausea rising from my stomach; rarely did I consume so much Western food, and so, the grease and butter did not suite my palate well. But I thanked him gratefully and carved out a sliver of egg. Warily I placed it in my mouth (Miroku had warned me multiple times before of Inuyasha's atrocious cooking that I was reluctant to try it). But I discovered that although the taste was ordinary and the edges a bit crisped and burned, it was edible, even delicious after my ordeal. Before I know it, I had finished my entire plate clean and white like bone.

"Rin, ready to go?" Inuyasha asked.

I quickly gulped down the last bit of tea (oolong with a hint of Japanese cherry for flavor) and stood up. Following Inuyasha out the door, I took a sneak peek at Sesshoumaru, who had not stirred the whole time but at that second lowered the shuffling pages and smiled at me. Flashing a hint of pearlescent fangs, making me shudder.

It was then that I realized Sesshoumaru and I haven't spoken a single word to each other throughout the meal. He was engrossed in his newspaper, and I was busy cleaving away at my food. But the whole time, I was fearing that he actually _would_ avert his gaze from the top of the papers and peer at me with preternaturally precise focus.

"Inuyasha, your brother is a fucking sadist," I muttered to no one in particular.

**Tokyo, Japan: **_**Present**_

As a treat to celebrate my twentieth birthday, Mama ordered an artistic, beautifully created cake from an upscale bakery. It was a sublime white sheet cake with coconut cream (supremely fattening and sweet) with real roses and miniature glass pearls along the edges. Small and delicately ornate, it was too lovely to eat. I could fit the whole thing in two hands, cupping it with my fingers loosely around its velvety sides. My mouth watered at the lovely thought of sinking tiny teeth along its edges, nicking off just a small bite—to savor and hold in my tongue.

Earlier that evening, Mama, Kagome, Grandpa (who was nearing eighty-five), and some friends accompanied me to a nearby restaurant, a ritzy place famous for its genuine crystal champagne flutes and baguettes. We had all gotten quite drunk and happy with the exception of Grandpa who although swallowed down multiple glasses declared himself to be perfectly sober. And he proved this to be true when on the trip back to my apartment he was the only one who could walk without wobbling. Sango cried that it was the "best damn booze" she ever tasted and slyly whispered for me to do some "body-shots". I laughed and shoved her away, telling her that she was too far gone to know what she was saying. Mama was particularly exasperated with our adolescent antics, despite the fact we were all in our post-teenage years.

The city that night was ablaze with life and gaiety. The lights along my street were brilliant spheres encased in shadowy darkness, like a blanket covering their fragile hearts. Summer had never been so beautiful before; the air so fresh and uplifting; or I so alive and rising from the thought of infinity. I twirled around (made the doorman laugh audibly) and gathered the scarlet skirts of my bubble dress and spun on my heels. Sango clapped and wolf-whistled. I grabbed her hands and rushed our way up the stairs, too giddy and crazy to even contemplate the elevator. Kagome sighed behind us and helped Mama (whose bad knee sometimes pained her terribly). I felt—believed—that I was unstoppable. But then reality whisked me back into place.

Outside of my apartment door were three dozen yellow roses, trimmed till their stalks shone brightly and the petals brushed like fine velvet. Attached to the expensive bouquet was a note jotted elegantly on creamy parchment: _Happy birthday_. And that was that. Except I immediately knew who it was from and why it was there.

"Oh, Rin," Sango said.

I crumpled the note hurriedly and stuffed it in my purse. "It doesn't matter. Come on, let's go inside. I think I still have some of that wine left. If not, there's always the stash of vodka."

"Don't you think you—we both—had enough to drink tonight?" she asked hesitantly.

I snorted, "There's no such thing as enough to drink. Especially on my birthday."

"Well…"

And I knew I had her. Guilt-trip always worked with Sango sooner or later, and in her current state, she wasn't about to waste a second debating over another glass.

"Rin!" Kagome's voice resonated from the hallway, "Help me with Mama's purse. She's not feeling too well."

I rushed out the door and caught my mother just before she sank to the ground. She had always been a light drinker, petite and delicate, the quintessential Japanese lady. I knew that she had indulged for my birthday and was suffering the consequences for it now. Usually, she only took a sip or two, but at both my sister's and mine insistence tonight, she obliged to down a flute or two. Or three or four. Apparently, Mama actually really loved her champagne, loved how it "sparkled in the light like a thousand liquid crystal beads".

"We should get her to bed," Kagome said, eyeing our mother worriedly.

I nodded and helped move her down the hall and into my living room. Offhandedly, I remarked on the not-so-mysterious-mysterious missive I received. "Guess who sent me _yellow roses_ today."

Kagome gasped and looked up. "No."

"Yes," I said as I lifted my mother's legs onto the bed.

"Was there a note?"

"Of course there was a note. Otherwise, it would be so _improper_."

"Rin, be serious. What did it say?"

"Oh you know, the usual: I love you dearly, my beloved. I regret every lie and terror I instilled in you. I hope you forgive me. Please take me back."

She sighed. "Just shut up," evidently not amused at my sarcasm, "You know, Rin, you really did bring this upon yourself. If you had simply answered him normally when he called, he wouldn't be torturing you right now."

"_You_ know, _Kagome_, some think that it's terribly romantic for a husband to send his wife flowers on her birthday. Although I would have preferred a severed head."

"Let's see if you can keep that snippy wit of yours when he calls later." She smiled at me smugly.

She was right, even I admitted. He would definitely call and it would definitely be unpleasant. Yellow roses have long been a warning message between the two of us, and the precursory delivery of posh flowers heralded a disaster in the making.

"We'll see about that. I'm ready for whatever he's going to throw at me."

"Including reconciliation?"

I narrowed my eyes at her. "What the hell are you getting at?"

She shrugged innocently (so fake and incredibly vexing). "Oh nothing, simply that maybe he's got _you_ cornered…again, and _this_ time, you won't be leaving through your clever escape route."

I sighed exasperatedly. "You're drunk, Kagome."

"And so are you."

I muttered a half-hearted agreement.

"And the best part is, I know something that you don't!" She practically sing-songed the last part out.

"What might that be?" I snapped back.

"You can't fight both fate and the gods, Rin."

I glanced at her and was surprised by the seriousness of her face and somber cadence of her voice. She had discarded all jocundity and stared at me with utmost austerity and sincerity. In that moment, I felt every tension, every hurt, and every bitterness we felt towards each other. It was like I rewound back my life and saw the events swirl around in a kaleidoscope, the edges of each piece hitting and jolting each other.

And so, I walked out to the balcony, avoiding concerned expressions and questioning gazes along the way, grabbed the phone (and a half downed glass of chilled wine from Sango) and sat down on the benches. Out on the minuscule balcony, I let the rush and flow of the city wash over me as I waited for the inevitable phone call. All the while, I rehearsed my lines a million and one times, counting the stars and recalling their constellation names. I saw Orion and his hunt, nymphs and demons, and even that overrated North Star. My body became a tunnel and the world channeled through it, sifted and shape-shifting like hidden silhouettes against an orange brick wall.

**Tokyo, Japan: **_**Past**_

The first term was approaching its end with all of the students in a dizzy over finals and last-minute projects. I had little to worry about and barely skimmed over the packets that the cram school handed out. Unlike Kagome, I wasn't very academic at all and with the exceptions of mathematics and science, my grades were average (deplorable compared to my outstanding sister's performance during high school). Having entered school earlier than most, I was a year younger (fifteen) than my schoolmates. And some, like Sango, never let me hear the end of it.

We were walking to a small ice cream parlor after school, hoping to grab a couple of soda floats before the rush of cram school demanded our presences. I sighed and tried to create some plausible and inventive excuse to tell Mama on why I received another eighty-eight on my history exam. Sango told me to just say that since I was younger than everyone, _naturally_ I had difficulty keeping up.

"Ha ha," I replied, "That's _really_ smart of you. Thanks but no thanks. I think I'm just going to confess that I didn't actually study this time. Or any other time, for that matter."

"And then the great wall of tears will come flooding in! Call me when you manage to save your drowning body from them."

"Yeah, well, you didn't do so hot in Japanese literature either, Miss-I'm-So-Amazing."

"At least I _passed_, Rin."

"Ouch. That really did me in."

"Hey, are you free tonight?"

"Why? You wanna do something, Sango?"

She shrugged and adjusted the pleats of her skirt, pulling them down to actually cover her knees. "I was thinking we could check out that new store downtown, the one with the really cute scarves."

I frowned. Fashion had never been my thing and for as long as I knew it, it wasn't Sango's intent to deliberately torture me with a shopping trip. "Isn't it a bit early to be looking at scarves?"

She blushed. "Okay, okay, I'll tell you the truth! For the past couple of days Kohaku has been going down there constantly, and I mean every night. So I'm thinking that there must be a good reason why. And the reason is that cute salesgirl who works every night from eight to twelve."

"Oh, Sango, you _ have _been busy!"

"Shut up. I'm being serious here! I caught him three nights ago, only I think he saw me and dodged away before I could grill him for answers."

"Maybe the reason he ran away was because he didn't want you to know! Ever thought of that?"

"So what. I'm his big sister. It's like my right to interfere. I just want to know for sure. Come on, please Rin, please?"

"Okay, fine. We'll go. But only for tonight. And if we're wrong then you have to apologize to Kohaku for meddling!"

"Sure, sure. Let's hurry up. Cram school starts in half an hour and I am just _starving_."

We made our way to the sweets shop and squeezed into the booth by the far end (our usual hang-out place). Sango dived straight into her pie, or to be precise, a composition of sugar, fat, and more sugar. The "House Special". I nearly gagged at the sight and quietly sipped at my soda. Sweets and I had never gotten along too well. I mean, I _liked_ them well enough—as any girl could never say no to chocolate—but devouring cakes and pies and cookies by the shovels was just my thing. I was always the more traditional one among my friends.

But Sango and her brother Kohaku had been orphaned at a young age and passed along to relatives, foster homes, until eventually, an old Western gentleman agreed to adopt them. As a result, they developed an unhealthy palate for greasy, deep-fried, sugary dinners. The gentleman provided them with a spacious home, everything they needed (in Kohaku's case: wanted at first glimpse), and a loving, compassionate detached father-figure. While he toured the seas and continents as an esteemed professor of astrophysics, Sango and Kohaku stayed home. It had been a very good resolution, Sango commented once.

"Hey, Rin, you gonna finish that?"

Sango eyed my partially eaten cake slice. I sighed and pushed the dish towards her, which she happily jabbed at with her fork.

"Do you ever think that all this cram school business is just so dumb?" I asked.

Sango looked up, paused for a moment, and nodded. "Well, _duh_. But what can we do? We have to go to school, to achieve, to dominate the world in whatever vocational field we find ourselves in!"

She said that with so much conviction it took even _me_ a few seconds to register that she was ridiculing the educational system.

"But why do we do it? Why do we let them dictate our lives?"

"Because we have no choice. If we don't then we will be reduced to the bums in the slums. Is that what you want?"

"No but I just don't get why we have to let _others_—the _adults_—mandate everything for us. I mean, we all know that we're smart, that we're capable of doing all this shit they deal out to us. So why do we _still_ let them run us around like we were trained circus animals? Not that I approve of circus animals. Seriously, you should see the maltreatment that they endure—"

"Rin, there _is_ always an alternative to everything."

"Oh really? And what might this be?" I bit down my lip, knowing where this was leading. I could speak the words for her, with every lilting nuance mimicked to perfection.

"Snatch a rich old man and rob his grave when he dies!" Sango sang the word in her beautiful enchantress voice.

I giggled. "Took the words right out of my mouth. Like my _dah-ling_ sister!"

"Well, I guess _ghra-duate_ school is better than high school."

"Yup, meaning that she's found herself a _supremely_ rich one at that."

"I hope she's proud of herself."

"Of course she is. That's been Kagome's goal since birth," I said but almost immediately regretted my harsh words.

As much as I was annoyed with Kagome because of her late-night calls and insane sleeping patterns, it was unfair to say that about her. But I just _couldn't_ (or wouldn't) consider the fact that she might earnestly loved Sesshoumaru. How could anyone? But in her defense, I don't think he loved her either. And so whenever I saw them together—observing like a nighthawk on the prowl (as Mama described my calculating eyes)—I kept trying to piece things together to create some fathomable grounds on why they were together. And have _been_ together for this long.

"Rin, we better go or we're going to be late for class. Sensei is going to flip."

I nodded, grabbed my bag, left some money for the tip and rushed out after Sango. We sprinted the blocks to the school and ran up the stairs and managed to plunge into our seats mere seconds before our teacher arrived. He gave us knowing, quizzical looks (the typical rise-of-the-brow) and told us to open our workbooks to page 365, all in his usual monotone.

His voice softened (or was it my mind conjuring that?) and I felt myself being lulled to sleep. I propped my chin on my elbow, hoping that the support will at least make it appear that I was being attentive. But soon, my head was plummeting through wells and deep-ground rivers, through rapid moving waters and slow creeping ice. I saw years flash by, years that I don't remember. I dreamt of oceans and a mountain, of snowy peaks and bitter waters. Of a large, cloaked figure on a precipice, of a world and lifetime I never experienced yet felt was so familiar.

It stood on all four legs, was pearly white and cold. Terribly cold. It tossed its head at the moon and opened its mouth in a long, mournful howl. Another figure stood by, shoulder-to-shoulder. The second one, much smaller, almost feminine but I was too far away to tell for sure, leaned in to _kiss_ the other. Around them, the alpine trees shook their leaves, dusting off powdery snow and sent the flakes wafting into the sky like miniature angels. Watching from the middle of the wintery ocean, I shuddered (not from the cold; I felt none).

And then I awoke as Sango shook my shoulders, hissing at me to write down the homework assignment fast. By the time we dashed out there, the dream had become a fuzzy notion on the horizon.

…

"Sango, is this really necessary?" I shouted.

We were shoved behind a rather upset and disturbed food vender's cart, ankle-deep in fried red bean pastries. For the past hour and a half, we half-crouched half-sat in that position waiting for Kohaku to arrive. But to no avail, not only did Kohaku _not_ appear, it had started drizzling. A light, gentle spring shower, but nonetheless, soaked socks and a skirt did neither of us comfort.

"He's not coming, face it. And my legs are going numb. Plus, Mama is going to _freak out_ unless I get my butt home in five minutes!"

"Rin, be quiet! He'll be here. I know he will. Come on, Kohaku, don't let me down!"

"Okay, so maybe he _does_ like this girl. But what if he just didn't plan to come tonight? Because, oh, I don't know, he was smart enough to check the weather?"

"What's that got to do with anything?"

"Maybe we are the only ones stupid enough to be outside when it's raining!"

"Don't be stupid. There is a _ton_ of people still out. He'll be here, I promise."

I sighed and sank further into the low stool that the vender had kindly offered us, provided that we pay him double the value of his signature snacks.

"Look, look!" Sango punched me in the arm.

"Ow! What? Is Kohaku here?" I craned my neck towards the direction Sango was practically screaming at.

But instead of Kohaku and his anonymous crush, I saw Sesshoumaru and Kagome enter a glamorous restaurant on the other side of the street. I groaned, knowing where this was heading, and rose. Sango, not one to follow suit—only lead—jetted across the still bustling urban street (bypassing cars like a zigzagging bee). I caught up with her, not at all out of breath. After years of her megrims, I've become acclimated to capricious, sudden demands of intense energy. We made ourselves invisible by sneaking by the window as furtively as we could and choosing instead to loiter around outside, in perfect view of the hapless couple.

We debated over whether it was worth getting caught to enter the restaurant and snag a better stalking position. However, the thought of imminent dismemberment and a million years of grounding stymied any further thoughts of that. Instead, we settled on trying to make the most of what they were saying through lip-reading (of which neither of us knew how) and body-language. Now that we were experts at.

"You know, this isn't exactly what I envisioned our snooping to be, but hell, this is so much better," Sango said, all grins and devious winks.

"Definitely. I just wish we could hear them."

"No need; I think I have a good idea of where this is heading."

"Really? Do tell."

"I think he's going to propose."

My mouth dropped completely. Impossible. No way would that _ever _happen.

"What…how can you tell?" I said after a moment of grasping the concept of having _Sesshoumaru_ as my brother.

"Pay attention. He's being really suave and trying to play it off as 'casual'. So predictable."

"Umm, Sango, I think you're going crazy. Sesshoumaru isn't capable of showing emotions at all. Besides annoyance."

"Then what about the flowers and the suspicious-looking box?"

"Flowers are a symbol of the courtship ritual, and that box could contain anything. If I'm lucky, then it'll be a discreet bottle of arsenic."

"Flowers are symbolic of _human_ courtship rituals. For youkai, I always thought that they preferred something along the lines of beheaded enemies. You should've read up on that part in history class. So since he brought her flowers, he must have something especially evil in mind."

"Whatever," I scoffed in disbelief.

However, Sango's remarks were right on the mark (just not on that night). What Sesshoumaru produced from that box was an exquisite necklace. Damn the arsenic. And the flowers were merely for show. I must say: I was mildly disappointed. I had been expecting something dramatic and showy, nothing short of ostentatious for the rich and fabulous. That and Kohaku's no-show made the whole event quite anticlimactic.

**Tokyo, Japan: **_**Present**_

Right on cue, the phone rang a quarter after I perched—kicking my feet up—on the sticky, plastic lawn chair. On the seventh ring, after a momentary brush with death: heart racing from panic and getting short of breath, I picked up the phone. It was our mutual understanding that when he called (I never initiated) I would always, always pick up. No matter what. But the stipulation was that I would at least _pretend_ that I couldn't be bothered, completely nonplussed at the call. Our marriage was based on a series of contracts and previously formed mandates, and it would be absolutely verboten to break any of them.

"Sesshoumaru, to what do I owe this pleasant phone call?"

"I assume you received the flowers."

"Yes, and they were _riveting_. Thank you _so much_ for the constant reminders. The highlight of my pathetic life, I recall you saying once."

"At least feign to be an adult for only a moment."

"Sure, but that should go for the both of us."

"I am so…vexed at your annoying retorts. Why must you be so difficult?"

"Oh, I don't know, Sesshoumaru. Why did you marry me?"

"You know why."

"Actually, I don't. Care to refresh my memory?"

"Rin."

"What."

My hands rummaged for the buried pack of cigarettes and lighter I stuck inside my flimsy summer robe. I was still swathed—strangled—in my cocktail dress but at least the robe covered me somewhat. I hated the thought of being naked. I shakily lit up a cigarette and dangled it in one hand as I patiently waited for what's next.

"I want to arrange a _formal_ meeting with you."

At that, I was intrigued. Although Sesshoumaru threatened these person-to-person encounters, he never deigned to actually implement them. Besides, I had thought they were simply empty air because of the divorce papers I kept serving him.

"Huh. What for?"

"To settle things." _Human_.

"You know, if you would just sign the damn papers, we wouldn't have to bother with all these nuisances." _Least of all civility. _

"Let us establish a rapport."

"My, my, aren't we feeling _loquacious_ this evening?"

"Your incessant stupidity never fails to amuse me."

"Great, just fucking great. I just _live_ to serve you. Seriously, why do you want to meet all of a sudden?"

"Are you still smoking?" he asked with a hint of aggravation.

I shivered and instinctively looked around for hidden cameras before deciding it was impossible and grudgingly stubbed my precious cigarette.

"No, of course not."

"Remember what the doctor said," he sneered.

"I know what the doctor said." _You egotistical asshole_. "Anyway, go on. I'm all ears."

"I think you would agree to a meeting, _in person_, if you knew whom it regarded."

"None of our mutual 'friends' or 'acquaintances' can be of any interest to me anymore."

"I'm sure you'll find _him_ to be most interesting."

"No…you're lying."

"I never lie."

"You mean—that…umm…"

"_Yes_."

I could barely make out the rest of what he said. The conversation trickled through like strips of memory; only catching a few trains of words here and there. All I could think of, the only thing that resonated like a perpetual ache. _Bankotsu_. I hadn't thought of that name in a while. And I could feel this powerful, concentrated loathing that I haven't known in years: a sharp, haunting throb that snapped me into pieces. Too small and scattered to become whole again. I've been mad for a long, long time.

"Well, in that case, sign me up."

And we continue with our game of cat-and-mouse. Only, this time, I am the tiger waiting between the bamboo lines.

**Tokyo, Japan: **_**Past**_

Unfortunately, Sango's premonition of a proposal occurred sooner than I anticipated. If my prayers were truly answered, a proposal wouldn't have eventuated at all. However, by the end of the month, Kagome, Mama, and I (damn that Souta, he was so lucky to have been missed) were invited to an elaborate dinner party at the Taishous' model-size palace. I was caught off guard and had no choice but to attend. Mama was more than happy to acquiesce. Kagome grinned in that knowing way of hers, and I knew that something was up from the look of it. As for Souta, he made a hasty call about being out of town on an important trip (for educational purposes—the liar) that weekend, but to send his regards to the Taishou family (a _shameless_ liar too). Kagome waved it off and Mama didn't seem to care either. A son just wasn't appropriate when it came to doll-dressing.

So, it was then that I found myself as the unwitting victim. Narrowed between Mama and Kagome, I had no choice but to comply. They came at me with flying brushes and lip glosses and a myriad of other miscellaneous "beauty treatments". My face was rubbed raw and painful, moisturized till I couldn't breathe, and then painted over with hues from a Baroque palate. My lips stung and my cheeks were sore from the rubbing, pinching, and even itched from the finishing "dusting off". I probably sneezed ten times at least from all the facial powder and most likely developed a nasty rash underneath my perfectly dolled up exterior. But as long as I looked great, little else mattered.

Mama had pulled me aside right before we exited the lobby that if I thought to make this night difficult (insufferable was the word she chose) I would be grounded until I was forty. I agreed too readily, of which she was suspicious that I had some secret agenda. But truthfully, I really _didn't_ want to ruin tonight for Kagome. Her days home—resting from the "accident"—had been fairly well. The peculiar absence of our previous petty fights had been a great blessing and even better silence. She even helped me with schoolwork, which we both understood was not my strong point. And from this moratorium of constant cat-fights and bitching, we even expanded the nonexistent sisterly bond between us. Needless to say, if I caused any mayhem, however tiny, tonight Kagome would never speak to me again. And would probably kill me herself.

The thought of having Chanel ruby red manicured claws in my flesh was not pleasant. So, I resolved to "be good" for the sake of us both. Besides, I had promised Sango that I would only be a keen observer, recording every minute detail down for her with utmost alacrity. And I would call her the moment I was liberated so we could laugh our heads off over all the ridiculous things Kagome and Sesshoumaru said to each other. My bet was on Kagome being the absurd one. Sesshoumaru would just be his usual emotionless self. Absolute boredom there.

"Welcome to our home, Hitomi," a perfect soprano practically sang out from the inner foyer.

"Thank you, my family and I are very grateful that you have invited us over," Mama responded and bowed deeply.

I followed suit (Kagome was already inside by the time we arrived—"a prior engagement" she explained). Inuyasha's mother smiled at me, which I returned warmly. She was a nice lady with a quiet demeanor, but ran her household with an iron rod shooting through her spine. She had to, after all, being the mother to a wild, rebellious teenage boy and surrogate mother to the step-son who enjoyed toying with the world. _All the world's a stage_. And we are the pawns—characters—humoring him.

"Rin, Inuyasha tells me that you're quite the genius."

I blushed profusely. "Umm, not really. Just in math, I guess."

"Don't be so modest, Rin," Inuyasha said, popping up from behind his mother. Just like a puppy, only I would never mention that to him aloud.

"Why don't we all move to the parlor?"

We followed her to beautifully arranged platters of hor'dourves, everything from the vile caviar all affluent people perceived to be vital to a party to the cheap sesame cookies found at every corner stand. Everything was piled high on wonderful, high-end English Worcester bone china and young woven bamboo trays.

I discovered from my last visit here that every room in the Taishou residence was decorated to replicate an era and nation. The grand staircase was adorned after early nineteenth century France while the parlor was reminiscent of Tang Dynasty China (with a few Ming urns tossed in just for the hell of it). And from what I remember, Sesshoumaru's room must have been dedicated to fifteenth century Romania, starring Vlad the Impaler as inherent host.

"Touga will be here momentarily, trying to fix on a tie. Well, you know how they are, Hitomi."

Mama nodded and gave a lighthearted laugh. Although daddy had died years ago, caring for grandpa all these years and then the strife of Souta's teenage years convinced Mama that indeed, men were all the same: slovenly and hopeless without their ladies.

"And where are Kagome and Sesshoumaru?" Mama asked.

"Oh, those two, Sesshoumaru stopped by at six this morning. Woke everyone up with the garage, grabbed something, and left. I haven't seen him since. Touga tried to reach him on the cell and received a brusque message that he'll be back—with Kagome—around six. But of course, it's nearly seven now and they're still not back."

"Probably doing it somewhere," I whispered to Inuyasha.

He laughed loudly and muttered something about a chemistry joke when his mother glowered at him.

Soon enough, Inuyasha's father came downstairs. I gasped when I first saw him; he was a spitting image of Sesshoumaru (and what Inuyasha threatened to become in a few years' time). He looked dashing and a bit daunting in a pressed three-piece linen suit with silk lining and silk shirt. The tie was loosened casually, and his hair was tied sleekly at the base of his neck. He had the characteristic crimson inuyoukai stripes across his cheeks, and when he smiled, there was just the bare hint of pearly fangs.

"Hello, _dear_, nice of you to finally join us," Izayoi stood on her toes to give him a peck on the lips.

She stood an astounding eight inches shorter than him. I stifled the urge to laugh, but I admit it was kind of cute.

"Ah, Hitomi and Rin, lovely for you two to join us. Where is Souta?"

"On a class trip," Mama answered perfunctorily, "But it appears that he is not the only one missing."

"Yes, my first son and your first daughter."

Izayoi hit him gently on the arm, a warning not to try anything witting. The underlying message being _you're not funny_.

"So, why don't we wait for them in the dining room? If they're not here in the next half hour, we'll eat without them. I'm just about famished," Touga continued.

And Izayoi hit him again.

"Sorry, my wife doesn't think that my sense of humor is appropriate for company."

"Mom's right, Dad," Inuyasha added.

"_Anyway_, let's get a move on," Izayoi interrupted smoothly and led the way into her dazzling dining room.

There was a long glass table set for seven with enormous authentic crystal chandeliers dangling precariously overhead. A butler (I swear these people were insane) pulled back my chair, and I awkwardly sank into the plush material. Everything was hip, chic, and impeccably ornamented. There wasn't so much as a single carpet hair awry.

Izayoi personally popped open a champagne bottle and poured everyone some, including Inuyasha and I. Mama looked at me with a warning, telling me not to get too carried away and above all else, stay demure, silent, and amicable. I nudged Inuyasha under the table and we exchanged conspiratorial looks. We were quiet for a while, the adults speaking in hushed tones—as if any loud sound would break the placid ambience like an ultimate taboo. Inuyasha entertained me by flexing his puppy-dog ears and I responded with my signature pout. The one in which I half-raised and half-lowered my mouth so that my lower lip was impossibly puckered and full.

After nearly fifteen minutes of further waiting passed did we hear the front door open, a soft, subtle sound but distinct enough for Touga and Inuyasha to hear. We all turned our heads in perfect synchrony, just in time for Kagome to walk into the room, head-over-heels happy. She sat down next to me, squeezed my shoulder reassured, and that's when I felt the incisive jab.

"Kagome…" I began, but she shook her head.

She stood again when Sesshoumaru entered. He placed two bottles of expensive wine on the table and announced that he and Kagome were engaged. Plain and simple. No emotion, just matter of _flatly_ stating some mundane event.

"What? You can't be serious," Mama whispered.

"It's true. Aren't you happy for us?" Kagome beamed, "What about you Rin?"

"I-I-I…sure, yeah. Real happy for you guys," I choked out, barely comprehending what just occurred.

"Oh, _Kagome_, _Sesshoumaru_," Izayoi managed to say, "that's _wonderful_ news. Isn't it, Touga?"

Touga let out a low laugh, trying to lighten the deadly mood. He reached over and hugged Kagome closely and nodded to Sesshoumaru (knowing that his son was not one for emotional displays).

"Sit, sit, everyone," Touga commanded in his deep baritone.

I felt my legs crashing against the antique oak or mahogany or hell, even paulownia (the princess tree). The numbing sensation shot straight through my back and ended up lodged as a curious headache. A conversation started somewhere far away, but I wasn't present enough to decipher the muted words. Someone laughed, might have been Izayoi's clear, euphonious voice. Inuyasha spilt wine: _a bit too tipsy?_—his father asked jokingly. Izayoi sighed and reprimanded him on his table manners. Kagome giggled and offered her consolations, said it was nothing, don't worry about it. Sesshoumaru gave him a withering look, even a blind person would have been able to see that. And then tall talk ceased, heads turned to me, only I didn't realize that I was asked a question.

"Rin, are you okay?" Izayoi asked.

"Huh? What, oh yeah, I'm fine," I answered.

"Maybe you should ease up on the wine, dear," Mama smiled.

I looked at my glass. I drank only a quarter of it and made a face.

"It's very _vulgar_ for a lady to get drunk at dinner," Sesshoumaru said plainly.

I gritted my teeth; I _knew_ he was just itching for a fight. And here was the prime opportunity. I _was not_ _drunk_, thank you!

Instead, I smiled brilliantly at him and replied, "And it's very _vul-gar_ for perverted old men to hit on young girls!"

The entire table hushed immediately. I had no idea where that one came from. I didn't even know his exact age to be honest, and Kagome wasn't "young" either. She was twenty-three and knew precisely what she was doing. Just the other day, _I_ was chiding Mama to stop treating her like a little girl.

"Rin, that's enough. No more of this nonsense," Mama said after a while.

I sighed and resumed picking at the gourmet meal, suddenly having lost all appetite or interest in what I was eating. Eventually, the others eased back into a cheerier mood, with Kagome rattling off plans of the upcoming wedding to Izayoi. I discovered that Touga was just like his younger song, not at all reserved and loved to have fun—almost to the extent of in excess. Sesshoumaru barely ate anything either, was sipping at his wine glass constantly. Mama talked animatedly with Kagome and Izayoi, the two matrons trying to convince the stubborn bride-to-be that shocking colors was just too inappropriate for a wedding dress. Inuyasha and I were the only ones who didn't speak, and if we did, it was only to answer a direct question.

Neither of us could explain why the other was in such a horrid mood. My headache was getting worse; I probably _was_ getting quite drunk. And Inuyasha was naturally sullen, I suppose. Sometimes, I would catch Kagme giving Inuyasha understanding, inside glances, and he would brighten up for a moment. But that could have been my imagination. I also imagined that Sesshoumaru was staring at me throughout the night. Yet, whenever I tried to catch him in the act, he would clandestinely avert his gaze, never giving me the pleasure of getting the best of it. What had promised to be an airy, informal formal "family dinner" turned out to be quite cataclysmic internally. On the outside, it was cordial and homey.

"_To a prosperous marriage_," I mocked as everyone proposed a toast to the happy couple.

**Toko, Japan: **_**Present**_

I spent nearly the entire morning trying on clothes, after I dragged myself out of bed and into the shower—thankfully, the water was piping hot upon entrance. This skirt with that dress? Why a skirt at all? How about a dress? Or would that be too cool for the evening air? Hell, who was I _kidding_. It was blazing in the middle of summer, too hot would be a better consideration. After hours of tossing everything out of my closet and an ever-increasing accumulation of shirts, pants, skirts, dresses, and miscellaneous other items threatened to completely dive from my bed, I was exhausted. Absolutely drained. And I still had nothing suitable to wear. I felt stupid and childish, a fifteen-year-old girl again on the verge of tears because she didn't have a knock-out dress to wear on a date. Only, I was no longer fifteen, and this was no date. This was torture and blackmail and bribery. Rather than feeling giddy over the impending doom, I should consider suing him.

Every few minutes or so, I would sigh histrionically and kick a random sandal out of the way. Mama poked in every _other_ minute and inquired if I need some assistance. I declined, thinking that although she was just being kind, her fashion taste was dreadful. Then, I would reprimand myself on why I was getting so obsessed over this. I wasn't particularly interested in fashion even if I had what some of my more trendy friends called "a body to die for" (real funny). However, one of my closest friends happened to be a major fashion designer—even had his own couture line—and thought that I would make a perfect guinea pig. And so, despite my curses and disgusted looks, I never refused him when he asked me to model in exchange for designer clothes. I was a hypocrite, and did he let me know it.

"Suikotsu, I am going to kill you," I muttered under my breath, willing every fiber of my being to implement the malediction.

"Did you say something, Rin?" Kagome asked.

I shook my head. "Did Mama sent you to check in on me?"

"No, it's not that. It's just that…umm, well, it's getting kind of late. So we _both_ thought that it might be best if I just picked something out for you."

"I'm not a kid, Kagome. I can dress myself."

"I know, I know. I'm just here for _advice_, if you want any that is. Not that you need it. I mean, you have a fabulous sense of style and a killer wardrobe."

"Technically the wardrobe is on-loan, and we both know that I can't distinguish a fedora from a beret."

She laughed at that one. "I guess, but hey, don't worry about it. Very casual right? Just dinner, just to _talk_, right?"

"Yes. Nothing else. There couldn't possibly be anything else. I am going to finalize some matters and for Bankotsu. Yes."

"Oh, I'm convinced," she said sarcastically, "It's very smart of you to attend dinner with your husband on behalf of some other man."

"I told you: it's a very civilized, professional meeting between two civilized, professional people!"

"Okay, okay, no need to snap my head off. Anyway, how about this?"

She held up a soft white silk dress with varying shades of tiny, light blue flowers polka-dotted over it. It swept into a rounded collar right around the clavicle, not too low but not strangling high either, and best of all, it was backless. I thanked Kagome profusely, complimented her on her impeccable taste (which was true) and her keen sense of practicality (also true, in this case). I was dreading the blistering summer heat, not even slightly alleviated by the sinking sun, but a backless dress would be the ideal solution. She recommended that I tie my hair into a mid-ponytail so that enough tresses would cover my back but I would still be kept cool by a breeze.

"Great, fantastic. You outdid yourself, Kagome."

"Uh-huh, just remember, you owe me next time we go out," she mumbled through a mouthful of safety pins.

I was so thin by then that even sample sizes were too loose sometimes. Most girls would have rejoiced at that, but I was anxious over the looming future of whether I'd be able to fit into clothes at all. And so, it had become a habitual routine for Mama or Kagome or if I were desperate, Sango, to take in the extra fabric.

"Really, I appreciate this. Thank you."

She turned me around, jabbed a pin into the side, barely missing my thigh. "Just promise me, Rin, don't make an ass of yourself tonight."

"I never."

"Promise. Me," she said with deadly seriousness.

"Fine. I won't say anything remotely insulting or rude. I'll be the perfect lady. I _swear_.

"I don't want you unnecessarily pushing his buttons either. Get what you need and _get out of there_. No lingering, no goading, no _taunting_. Got it?"

"Yes," I muttered indignantly.

I knew that Kagome had every right to berate me for behaving horrendously considering that the last time Sesshoumaru and I met "in person" I tossed a glass of wine on his shirt. Or rather, poured an entire bottle over him. He was furious and contained all that rage behind a lividly expressionless mask. It was _beautiful_. I knew he would never react unwholesomely, and it got me out of there sooner than anything. Worked like a charm. And I got even. He ruined my night, so I ruined his suit. Divine retribution.

"There! All ready. I'll just sew this in a bit and you're off to go. Just be careful not to make any sudden movements; we both know that I'm not the most talented at domestic skills. And don't sit down carelessly! I'll have to leave some of pins in so caution is wise."

"Got it. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to paint up my face for a prick."

She sighed loudly, alerting me on exactly what she thought of me that moment. "I just don't get you, Rin."

"Join the family."

…

The restaurant that Sesshoumaru chose did not turn out to be some fantastically gaudy behemoth. It was very charming. I was surprised. He was not one to do anything _quaint_ or _sweet_. For Sesshoumaru, the commercial and business world was separated into two very distinct categories. One being expensive and pretentious (for the humans) and the other brusque and simple (for the youkai who had no use for frivolities). And as it so happened, since this meeting fell under neither of those genres, it was only right that he did something unexpected. Except, I was shocked at being shocked when I should have anticipated it all along.

I stepped out of the cab gingerly: _one heel first, make contact with the pavement and walk._ It was drawing towards late afternoon, the skyline already bursting with fuchsia and indigo. I began wringing my hands together, a habit that I'd developed in the face of something dreadful. But even before I stepped inside, the maître d' rushed out and personally welcomed me. He was a short, squat man with a greenish tint to his skin and was at least in his sixties, but he had a baby face bereft of any wrinkles and smiled kindly.

"Madame Taishou?"

"Yes," I said, trying not to cringe at the "Taishou" part.

"We have your table all ready. Your husband is waiting for you."

"Oh. That's…unfortunate."

He laughed and waved me in. I followed him to a private room with large French windows and a modest sized chandelier. I frowned at the display of gleaming candles and the beautiful flower arrangement. _What the hell is he getting at_. My previous thoughts of exasperation rapidly evolved into feelings of loathing and severe disgust.

"Sit," he commanded imperiously.

I glared at him, sitting so calm and at ease across the table (set for two, mademoiselle!). Obviously, he was not fazed and even smiled back, amused as if to say that he would gladly accept any paltry challenge of mine.

"Oh great. I see that you're still alive and icy as ever. How's life these days? Still traumatizing innocent old ladies?"

"And I see that _you_ are as insolent as ever."

"Yeah but it's only on weekends now."

"It's Wednesday, Rin."

"Damn, must've lost track of time. You know, since I am so sick and pitiable. Speaking of a divorce, let's get signing, shall we?"

"Who spoke of a divorce?"

"Why, you did, just now. And if you insist, I have the papers right here, which you so uncouthly mailed back to me _unsigned_."

He opened the wine bottle and poured some for both of us.

"Out of the question."

"But you didn't even hear the question."

"Rin, stop being ludicrous."

I whipped out my purse and produced the inexorable papers. He raised an eyebrow at my show of persistence.

"I thought you were here for that idiot."

"And for the divorce."

"You can only pick one." He smiled viciously.

"Fine. _Divorce_."

"If you say so. Then there is no use for me to tell you—"

"Wait! I changed my mind. Bankotsu. Tell me. Now."

"Mercurial, aren't we?"

"Oh shut up and get on with it."

"You're such a child."

"Sesshoumaru, I'm not fooling around here. Tell me."

He leaned in closely. "Are you sure?"

I reciprocated until our faces were practically touching. "Yes."

"He's alive."

"But you…how…"

"Must have 'missed'."

"You lie."

"No, it's true. You can see him tonight, if you'd like. Do you want that, Rin?"

"Yes."

He laughed again, just as every bit low and cruel. But I didn't care. All of a sudden, I didn't care about the stupid divorce or trying to get even. I just wanted to know. To see. To ascertain that Sesshoumaru was telling the truth.

"Take me to him, please."


	4. Orange Popsicles and No Regrets

**Author's Note:** I am so sorry to everyone for this disgustingly late upadate! School has been horrible in the past few weeks, but I'm back now for the summer and ready to write. I also had a nasty case of writer's block that is gone now. Whew! Anyway, enjoy chapter 4 and please REVIEW!

* * *

**Chapter 4  
Orange Popsicles and No Regrets**

"_An important lesson in life is to never regret. No matter what your decisions were, or how horrible a situation you find yourself in, live each day to the fullest. Embrace each moment and remember them without rue. Rejoice, remember."_

—_And I had always thought that was a load of bull. And it turned out I was absolutely correct._

**Tokyo Japan: **_**Past**_

Kagome's work prevented her from coming home for several weeks, and by the time she was able to visit us (dressed immaculately from head to toe in Prada) summer vacation had already begun. I was worn out from the end of the first semester and entertained thoughts of sandy beaches and freshly sliced watermelons wholeheartedly. My grades were high enough to satisfy Mama, stopped her from launching into a tirade at least.

I laid low for the first few days, sulking around the apartment, blaming the hot weather for horrible mood swings and antics. Mama paid no attention. Her mind was completely revolved around Kagome's return (she reminded us of that every day) and obsessed the day away with cleaning and other preparations. My brother Souta had returned already from university and fared no better under Mama's vulture-sharp eyes. In fact, she had pressured him into doing "degrading, menial tasks that were a serious waste of tuition costs." Mama didn't bat an eye, merely told him to dust the ceiling corners since he was so high-and-mighty already.

To humor both of them (or simply to avoid incurring their wraths) I slipped out of the apartment by the end of the first week and only returned as the afternoon heat turned especially dreadful with an armful of ice cream and popsicles. Souta and I would fight over the orange ones while Mama berated us for acting like urchins.

"Whatever, Mama, it's not like Souta needs to get any fatter."

"Excuse me? Rin, I'm a man. A _growing_ man who needs his food! And what about you? Getting a bit pudgy in the stomach eh?"

He jabbed at my concave belly playfully.

"Rin, I want you to take a shower and put on a nice dress. And comb your hair. Honestly, you prance around wearing a rag on top of your head!"

"What for?"

Mama eyed me with daggers. "_Sesshoumaru_ is meeting us tonight. And so is _Kagome_. I want you to look presentable."

"But you said Kagome won't be back for another two weeks, at least!" I yelped indignantly.

"Well, apparently she changed her mind," Mama replied sarcastically.

"Can't we just….not go?"

"No arguing. Just get into the shower, Rin. Please. And Souta, get me a gin and tonic."

My brother sniggered and dashed into the kitchen. Fetching drinks for Mama meant snipping some shameless alcohol for himself too.

"So…where are we going tonight?" I asked, attempting to make small-talk with my family (we're infamous for being brusque to the point of coldness).

"I have no idea, Rin, stop bothering me, please. Sesshoumaru will be sending a car around seven so just get ready!"

I glanced at my wrist and read the time: five thirty. Great. Wonderful. And here I was naively envisioning a quiet evening at home laughing my head off with Souta.

"Can't I just go in jeans and a T-shirt?"

"No."

"How about a lacy bra and matching panties?"

"Rin!"

"Okay, okay. Just kidding. I'll….go find something 'presentable'."

I emerged from a cloak of shower-mist and subtle perfume ten minutes before seven. My hair was strangely sleek and twisted up into an elegant chignon, and I was even wearing my nicest summer dress. That ought to please Mama.

"What are you wearing?"

"A dress, Mama, like you asked."

"It's vulgar, like what? Pieces of shredded rags?"

"It's _silk_, Mama. _Silk_. You know, like that really dumb, overpriced stuff you like so much?"

"Cheap silk. Where did you get it?"

I sighed dramatically, "Nowhere. Just forget it. So what would _you_ like to choke me in?"

"You know how I don't like that kind of attitude."

"Whatever."

"Stop it, Rin. I won't have you being disrespectful tonight. The Taishous are a _very_ powerful family; they're not to be trifled with!"

"Mama, I'm not 'trifling' with them. I'm not doing anything."

"Then go get dressed, _appropriately_."

I followed her order but grudgingly. My stomping down the hall, just like a typical teenager in a tantrum, alerted my family the extent of my displeasure. Souta, unfazed and caught in the heat of the moment (video-games), deigned to give me the slightest acknowledgement—his fingers paused for a second before smashing down more buttons. Mama continued to hum her lighthearted tune and completely blocked me out. I exhaled as loudly as if to say that I were above all of this, this mundane, close-knit suburban vision of the ideal family we're trying to force out.

Slamming the door behind me, I threw my limp body upon my bed and screamed into the pillow. My mind was going crazy with frustration and anger. Retrospectively, I was little more than an ill-tempered teenage girl, mad at the world at her family at her sister's upcoming—unavoidable—marriage to the most vexing man in the world. I felt like my small dynamic family, despite our petty alliances (Souta and I versus Mama and Kagome usually), was about to disintegrate because of the arrival of an unwanted entity. I swore up and down every morning that I hated Kagome passionately that I wished someone—anyone else—were my sister. But now that I was really faced with the prospect of losing her, I was going mad and wanted nothing more than to hold her done and scream some sense into her head.

An hour later, suitably dressed (I had to change three more times to please Mama), Mama and I left the house. I was about to hail for a cab when she shook her head and indicated a long-stretch limousine parked out front. Flabbergasted at this blatant display of ritzy, pretentious asshole-ness, I allowed Mama to walk me over and into the car. The entire ride to the Taishou residence, done by rote after all those trips, was awkward and annoying. Mama kept trying to adjust my dress, picked up some invisible lint and smoothed out some more imaginary wrinkles. I avoided her to the best I could, pushed her busy hands away and gave her my ugliest glares. Mama only laughed and warned me that if I continued doing that my face would freeze in that position. I was not amused.

"I still don't understand why we're going anyway. I mean, they're already getting married aren't they?"

"It's to talk about some final details and for the two families to get to know each other some more," Mama replied. I could tell she was lying immediately from the way she kept craning her neck to look outside the tinted window.

"Oh well, that makes _so _much sense! It's not like there's no professional wedding planner already on the job or that you and Izayoi-san haven't been seeing each other practically every other day for the past month! I totally understand, Mama. We have to make a good impression."

My mother blushed at having been caught in her charade. I smirked and ensconced myself into the plush seat.

"Rin, does it bother you that much?"

"Does what?"

"Kagome marrying Sesshoumaru. Why do you hate him so much?"

"It doesn't bother me; I could care less. And I don't hate him. I think he's just some stupid prick. Some rich, spoiled stupid prick."

"Then why are you planning to sabotage their wedding?"

I froze wondering how she could possibly know. I haven't mentioned it to anyone, and it's not like I can actually implement my plans. For all I know there'll be mafia guards stationed at all entrances during the ceremony.

"I'm not. I'm really happy for her. Honestly. They totally deserve each other."

Mama frowned. "That's not very nice. He's a very good match for her."

"You mean for you. Oh come off it! You just want them married because his family will be a great advantage for business. You just want his money."

"That's not true. He loves Kagome dearly."

I laughed harshly. I didn't believe Sesshoumaru capable of loving anyone then or ever. He was cold, cruel, and there was something inhuman about him that I despised. Something alien and uneasy, even more unnerving than the fact that he was a daiyoukai wanting to marry a simple human girl. But I didn't have much time to contemplate the portents of their distasteful marriage. The chauffeur was already opening the door, bowed, and led us up unfamiliar steps.

The Taishous owned numerous houses all over Japan (three located in and around Tokyo). The place for tonight was one of Kagome's favorite, just outside of the city and surrounded with looming, lush trees. And it was the only one we haven't visited yet. There was a feeling of traditions and ancestry here. The house was built in the early seventeenth century, completely modeled to fit the idealized Japanese home. We walked in, solemn and awed at the expansive atmosphere, and immediately I felt a foreboding sense of dread. Like some curse or death recently visited, I couldn't relax here. I felt like I was walking over the body of a corpse. Mama, as usual, chatted quietly with one of the Taishous' oldest attendants, a frog youkai named Jaken. Jaken, as per _his_ usual, ignored me with haughty contempt and managed to make some snide comments about how I was a disgrace, even for humans. For a diminutive youkai who stood well below my waist, he was a feisty, ferocious one. But Kagome told me that he was just all steam and if you ignored him, he would stop—eventually. I have yet to test out that theory.

"So Jaken-sama, how have you been?"

"Insolent human!"

"I think you're looking better today, less _green_ at least."

"How dare you!"

And that was the culmination of our thirty-second conversation. However, he had taken a strange liking to Mama (tolerated Kagome under threats from Sesshoumaru). I joked to Mama before that Jaken had a crush on her.

"Oh, Jaken-sama, don't mind Rin. She's being particularly cranky today. This is such a beautiful place! How often do the Taishous stay here?"

"Often enough before," he gave me a sly grin, "But this is the first time they have stayed here in almost two hundred years. Except for Izayoi-sama, of course, being the _human_ she is."

My skin crawled. _Two hundred years_. I was consumed with all sorts of horrific speculations on why that was. Maybe this place was haunted, I wouldn't have been surprised. Maybe someone had _died_ here and his soul sunk into the walls and was now…Okay, Rin, get a grip.

"Is that so?" I said.

"There has been only one human before your family to ever enter this place. She died."

My heart was in my throat now. My skin prickled with bumps and not just because of the cool evening air. I wanted to run out of here screaming, but composed myself. I gave him a disdainful look.

"Old wives' tales. You're trying to scare me, Jaken-sama, and it's not working."

"Feh, whatever you say, human girl. Just wait. I predict something horrible will happen to you tonight."

"If by horrible you mean I murder you then yes."

"What did you say!"

"Nothing, and look, we're here. Go open the door like a good manservant."

We crossed the threshold, the room separated from the corridor by elegant shoji screens. The thin rice paper was decorated by elaborate designs, frail and yellow-masked from age. Jaken parted the doors and bowed. Mama and I entered, marveling at the beautiful room. It was simplicity in the finest: fresh eight tatami mats padded our feet (large enough to boast wealth but modest enough for an intimate gathering). There was a large, low-sitting lacquered mahogany table in the center with cushions laid all around it. Set for eight, I counted. But who was the extra place for? I recognized the Taishous immediately. Sweet Izayoi sitting next to her husband, pouring tea from the antique ceramic pot. Inuyasha and his father argued jocosely back and forth about some sports event, _no that was a definite foul_. Sesshoumaru and Kagome were quiet; she was smiling and he was glaring, nothing surprising about that. But there was a mystery man there too. Wizened and stooped with age, the old youkai drank down the tea and thanked Izayoi kindly.

His face was sharp and bony. The skin was all stretched over his cheekbones, and wrinkles lined every part of his facial surface. His eyes bugged out too prominently, giving him the appearance of a fly. Messy, white hair was tied loosely back in the traditional man's topknot. Despite his ancient appearance, he spoke with vitality and wise humor. I liked this man immediately and soon learned that his name was Toutousai, a weaponry manufacturer for youkai. As to why he was attending a premarital dinner was still a puzzle.

"Hitomi!" Izayoi called out and waved for us to come over, "sit, sit. It's so good to see you again."

I giggled. Women were so funny. They greeted each other like it had been a century since they last met when it's only been a few days.

"And Rin, you look so wonderful."

"Thank you," I replied politely.

Inuyasha thumped the cushion next to him, indicating that I was to sit there. I sank into the soft silks and gave him a playful shove. Kagome frowned, and Sesshoumaru openly snarled. I averted his domineering gaze, leaned heavily into Inuyasha, but I couldn't calm down. I hated this house, everything. From all the ornate antique furniture to the posh décor, this house was like a burden, trapping me here. I repeatedly downed cup after cup of sake, all the while noting the strange, worried expressions I was receiving. For all I know, the Taishous must think that I was practically alcoholic by now. By the fifth cup, Izayoi diplomatically took my cup away and replaced it with a glass of water. Mama was shaking from anger, but Inuyasha couldn't stop laughing. To ease things up, Touga cracked some jokes, which everyone (except for Sesshoumaru) laughed at politely.

After dinner (a full-on twelve course meal, I felt like I was about to burst), Inuyasha offered to show me around the estate. I hesitated at first. Night was falling and the surrounding woods were like ominous shadows about to devour us, and the rustling wind became dangerous whispers. I followed him out to the terrace behind the house. The path weaved down to a little door. Inuyasha opened it quietly and we walked outside. The air was chilling by now despite it's already in the middle of summer. I shivered, and he offered me his jacket. It was soft and fluffy like puppy fur. We sat uncomfortably in silence for a long time, neither of us willing to break the silence.

"So. Your sister and my brother," he said suddenly.

"Oh yeah," I answered, snapping out of my dazed spell, "How's it going for you guys?"

He shrugged nonchalantly. "Same old shit. Sesshoumaru's being an ass, that's a given. Mom's going crazy planning everything even though the planner told her not to worry about it. My dad's been really calm about stuff. I don't know, it almost feels like he's purposely not getting involved."

"That's good at least! I mean, one sane person the family," I laughed, "It's the same with us. Okay, two actually, me and Souta. Did I tell you that Mama's been cleaning for like weeks straight prepping for Kagome's welcome-home?"

"Doesn't faze me one bit. But your mom is still pretty chill, lets you do whatever you want."

"Umm, I guess. What? Is your family all proper and prim?"

"Sometimes, some of them. Dad doesn't care so much but his family goes way back to the Feudal Era. I think we were a daimyou family."

"Haha, Inuyasha. Bragging won't score you any points."

"I'm not trying to score."

"I know. I just—"

"But I was thinking, Rin—"

He walked closer. I did too. We were an inch apart.

"I was thinking."

"Yeah."

"Let's go out."

**Tokyo, Japan: **_**Present**_

Sesshoumaru, to my astonishment, drove to the restaurant personally. Like he was expecting me to come along with him acquiescently, quietly, as if I were a puppet he could control. And maybe that was so, but I didn't care because I was going to see him after so long. My heart thumped frantically in my chest; the waves hit me, shocked me with unbearable anxiety and numbing pain. I yearned to see him, to know that he is fine, and that this wasn't just another one of Sesshoumaru's games.

"So…where are we going?" I asked.

"You'll see."

"Oh."

A moment of silence.

"Or you could just tell me now."

"You'll see."

"How's…business?"

"Good."

"Okay. And you?"

"Rin. Stop it."

"What?"

A flash of annoyance crosses his face.

"Interrogating me. I'm taking you to see him, aren't I?"

"I know. And thank you."

"You're welcome."

We pulled up to a stop onto a nondescript house. The driveway was newly paved, a cobbled, artistic rendition like that of a Picasso work. The cubic stones were peach, beige, and a sandy white. I thought they were just a bit too pretty, too _natural_ for a Tokyo home. Sesshoumaru walked up the steps, silently telling me to follow. He rang the doorbell, and a petite woman in her twenties opened. Her hands were stuffed in her apron's pockets, bunched with what seemed like hidden treats. A boy of around four or five came running to see her, zigzagged between her legs, obtained a cookie, and ran away again.

"Sesshoumaru-sama, it's a pleasure to see you," the woman said, "It's very nice to see you again. Bankotsu will be finished soon. I'm just rinsing up the dinner dishes, please come in."

Sesshoumaru nodded and entered. I followed behind like an uncertain shadow, nearly clinging to him out of confused desperation. The woman led us through her house until we were right outside the kitchen. She re-tied her apron and continued to wash dishes. Her little son raced towards her and burrowed his face between her skirts but not before looking up curiously at the intruders. A man soon entered from another door, leading—I assumed—into a study. He leaned down to kiss her. She blushed and sprayed him playfully with some soapy water.

"Sesshoumaru!" the man greeted in a booming voice. His long black braids shone under the brilliant lighting. There was a twinkle in his eyes, a wicked glimmer I knew too well.

Again, my heart raced, head swam dizzily, and my body started to shake. I knew that voice. I heard it—_still_ hear it—every night. I drew back into the dimly lit doorway, hoping to make myself invisible.

"Bankotsu," Sesshoumaru nodded.

"Should've told me you were coming earlier, you jerk. I was all tied up at the office, taking care of things, cleaning up _your_ messes, as I recall."

"They weren't _my_ messes, you idiot. I would never be as careless as that."

"Calm down. It's just been hectic today. Anyway, who's the girl?"

My eyes popped wide and jaw hung open. I couldn't believe it….he didn't know who I was. Didn't know _me_, Higurashi Rin. Of all the people. I was the one who stayed with him while he was at the hospital for three months. I placed a flower on his makeshift grave faithfully every month since his "death". I thought he would have been _thrilled_ to see me alive (the last time we saw each other, we were both in critical conditions with doctors pacing left and right saying neither of us would ever walk out of the hospital). But he didn't know me. Didn't _remember_ me. Like everything had been for nothing. Forgotten. In a second. Everything. Just gone.

"My wife."

"Really? You finally got married? Huh. Never thought you'd be the type."

"I'm not."

Bankotsu laughed. "She's pretty, I'll give you that."

"And human."

"Yes, that's a bit odd. Anyway, Rin, it's very nice to meet you. I'd ask you guys to stay but your husband's a cold, inconsiderate bastard and has piled me with work tonight. So, unfortunately, I won't be able to entertain much."

"No, that's all right," I replied shakily.

My nerves were all shot straight to hell. My knees wobbled. I couldn't think. This was too surreal. _How could he not remember me?_

Even if it was that accident….that was a long time ago. I came out of it, broken and aching, but I survived. And I still remembered. I remembered everything, and all that led up to the culmination. And how stupid I was getting him, them—everyone innocent—involved and ultimately hurt. Was this punishment—some divine retribution—for what I did? And even though I know that what I did had been a very, very bad thing, I still hated god for taking him away.

"You knew," I accused as soon as Sesshoumaru lit the ignition.

"Yes."

"Then _why_? Why did you bring me here? Why did you have to _do this to me_?"

"It was necessary."

"No! It wasn't! Okay? It just wasn't. It's sick. You're _sick_. He has a _kid_, did you know that? Of course you did. You always know every damn thing."

"You're overreacting, Rin."

"Overreacting? Yes, I am! How long have you been in contact with him? Using, exploiting him like you did before? To get back at me? That is just too pathetic, Sesshoumaru. Even for you, it's a new low."

"I didn't do it to 'get back at you'. It's just good business. He's skilled, more so than any other candidate. As a businessman, I saw him as an asset."

"And what happens when he becomes useless? You gonna kill him all over again?"

"_You_ of all people should know why he died before."

"So, you were jealous."

"No."

"Then why! Tell me, please! Why did you kill him?"

"Simple. It was just good business."

"And he had to die."

"Yes."

And the world drops dead. I collapse under its weight (once again). Except, this time, no one survives the crash.

**Tokyo, Japan: **_**Past**_

Soon word spread to what seemed like every corner of the school: Taishou Inuyasha (of the powerful Taishou family) was dating Higurashi Rin (the quirky, too-quiet girl from math class). Miroku winked on our first day back, and Sango smirked—she had predicted this would happen all along. I blushed furiously. Everywhere I went, people were whispering, pointing, etc. I was so embarrassed that I briefly contemplated breaking up with him. That would have caused a riot, I'm sure. Inuyasha was being very sweet about everything. He knew how uncomfortable I felt about the whole "dating" scenario and agreed to keep things low and answer no questions. Actually, he was a little too good at the latter and would take to calling out fights when the inquiries became too overwhelming.

But I really didn't mind everything so much. It felt sort of nice going out with him. We were a weird couple, everyone agreed. I was smart and academic (not enough for Mama's standards but enough according to the general population), and he was not. He was athletic and tough, and I was not. In some ways, we complemented each other. It was like there was this magnetic pull drawing us towards each other. He was my best friend and the first guy I came to love. Like an adorable puppy, Inuyasha trailed after me, provided a sturdy shoulder to cry on, a good listener when I needed to bitch (which was a lot especially during the days when the wedding was zeroing in closer and closer), and a great friend. He made me laugh, made me cry occasionally, and was someone to talk to. And unlike Miroku, Inuyasha never suggested anything sexual or perverse. We had kissed once, and it was disastrous.

Two weeks after school began, Inuyasha asked me out on an "official" date. I was so nervous that day I couldn't sit still and must have tried on a dozen different outfits before settling on one (it was the first I tried on too). Mama was so happy that she was practically delirious, and Souta was kind enough (or uncouth enough) to wolf-whistle when I sprinted into his room asking for his opinion. Pleased that I looked passable for a first date, I raced out the door and jumped into an elevator. Happy thoughts perforated my mind. I was excited, was jubilant, was literally on cloud nine.

Kagome had always been the one popular with boys, popular in general. I was always too shy, too taciturn, too invisible. Slowly, he drew me from my shell and into the real world. I laughed more when I was with him, talked more, and felt like I was actually in my body. That I was a person and not just lots of brain cells (all grey matter).

"Hey!" I waved at the brooding boy sitting on my apartment steps.

"Hey. So you ready to go?"

"Sure. Where we going?"

"You'll see."

"Inuyasha, come on, tell me."

He grinned mischievously, still evading my question. "You'll see, now come on. I've got a car over here."

I stopped. "We're _driving_?"

"Well, _yeah_, why not?"

"Nothing."

"Uh, okay then. Come on."

"You know, if you don't tell me where we're going, it's basically kidnap."

"Ha-ha, that's real funny. Damnit! These people need to _move_."

Inuyasha honked at the train of cars ahead of him, eliciting even angrier beeps.

"It's rush-hour. That's why I'm wondering why you're _driving_."

"You're right. It's kidnap. I got a car so I could kidnap you and take you somewhere far away. There, happy now? You're so annoying sometimes."

"So are you. Maybe that's why we like each other."

"Or I felt bad for you."

"Thanks, Inuyasha. You can shut up now."

"Your sister's pretty hot."

"Okay, that's it. I'm leaving. Pull over now. Actually, don't bother. I'll just jump and blame you for manslaughter too."

"Chill. I'm kidding. Come on, Rin. I'm _kidding_. I'm not my brother."

Inuyasha swerved and careened into a stop. I was flung back into my seat, head bumped against the headrest. Embodying the generic teenage boy state: Inuyasha was a terrible, violet driver. Speed and more speed. There was no need for surviving.

"Wow. Yeah, next time, we're not driving."

"Wasn't it fun?"

"No. We could've gotten killed."

"Yeah but it would've been one hell of an ending."

"I'd rather live, thank you."

"I think it's more 'cause you wanna be with me."

"You, I can pass on. Good food, send it my way."

"What makes you think you're getting any good food?"

"Inuyasha, we're by the marina. They only have high-end restaurants and sailing boats. So unless you plan to take me on a yacht, then it's dinner. Also, you're a Taishou. From what Kagme has told me, you people never do anything unless it's outright extravagant. Am I right?"

"Bitch."

"A _smart_ bitch, don't forget."

"You talk too much, Rin. But it's okay. I like that. You're cute when you're upset."

"So was I right?"

"Yes, you were."

The restaurant Inuyasha selected would become one of my favorites (and paradoxically one my most detested). A mix of French and Japanese specialties was the restaurant's signature cuisine. Inuyasha, as it turned out, had been a patron of the place since he was in diapers (he told me). He could recite the menu to me in its entirety, down to the slightest nuance in French lilt. The Taishous lived in France when Inuyasha was younger and still visit the southern regions regularly.

I, however, was not as acquainted with these formal dinner procedures. Mama had enrolled both Kagome and I in an etiquette class when we were younger, but that knowledge has long slipped away like sand grains in an hourglass. I still recalled the basic rule: start from the outside and work your way in. However, as for the specific distinctions between which tiny fork to use and which miniature spoon was appropriate for desert was lost to me. Thankfully, Inuyasha was gracious about my social faux pas and natural clumsiness. He ordered lobster and I ordered shrimp dripped, smothered, buried in butter.

"This is amazing," I said between mouthfuls of tender shrimp.

"I thought you'd like it."

"You're really different from your brother, from the rest of your family, almost. Except for your mom. You look like her a lot."

"Yeah, well, Sesshoumaru and I are only half-brothers."

"Oh. That's right. I almost forgot. I think I met his mother once, at this gala or something. She was real pretty, elegant, but kind of chilly. I think I felt my spine being dipped in ice when she introduced herself."

Inuyasha chuckled and took a sip of wine (I had water). "That's her all right. We don't really talk about her much. I just know she was married to Dad before mom, but that was a long time ago. Youkai live long."

"What about you? So, if your mom is a human and your dad is a youkai…then, are you like some sort of hybrid?"

His puppy ears perked up at the term. "Yup. A hanyou. The world is much more accepting of us now. In the Feudal Era, I would be turned out by humans and youkai. Never fit in anywhere."

"Feudal Era? Are you really that old?" I was astounded. He looked no older than eighteen or nineteen.

"Oh, umm, I mean like for hanyou in general back then."

He fumbled with a fork. I was intrigued. There was a deep mystery entombed under centuries, and if I wanted to unearth it, I needed to be more discreet.

"I see. So was it like oppression?"

"You could call it that. I'm not so clear on the history myself. I've never been the studious type. I think my dad's got a family tree somewhere but no one really cares about that stuff anymore. All ancient history."

"Do youkai hate humans?"

"It depends. Usually, youkai—especially the nobility—just ignore humans, think they're beneath them. But there's always the exception like Dad. Some would call him a progressive. But Sesshoumaru—"

"What about Sesshomaru?"

"Nothing, forget I said anything. He'd kill me."

"Oh, come on. Just tell me. I'll keep it quiet, I swear."

"You swear."

"Yes."

Inuyasha inhaled deeply as if preparing to deliver a dramatic monologue. I sucked in breath too, jumpy from the anticipation. I couldn't explain it but I was fascinated by his family's history, by his family—youkai.

Although they were part of the world as much as are humans, they mostly remained in the shadows. The majority, the weaker ones, were hunted to extinction during the 19th century Expurgation. The ones who survived were the powerful, old families: the daiyoukai. Now, they were almost indistinguishable from humans, having adapted to blend into human society. But there was always a lingering fear about them. Youkai history became incorporated into schools at the beginning of the 1900s, and the youkai themselves emerged as wealthy businessmen, doctors, etc. Despite their affluence, they kept mostly to themselves. And few ever interbred with mortals.

Thus, the existence of Inuyasha's family was strange and rarely seen.

"Sesshoumaru didn't always hate humans before. Well, that's a lie. He did hate them a long time ago but there was a woman, human. And she, uh, like changed his opinions on some things."

"And then what happened?"

"She died."

"What!"

"Don't talk so loud. She was human, what do you expect?"

"Then….wait, why is he marrying my sister if he hates humans now?"

"Ah, I don't know."

"Yes you do!"

"No, I don't. And even if I did, I can't talk about it okay? So just drop it."

"I'm sorry, I—I was just curious."

"It's okay, Rin. It's better you asked me than him. Him—he might've killed you right on the spot."

I shivered even though there was a warmth breeze throughout the open-walled restaurant. I was beginning to believe that it was true: the difference between youkai and human. Maybe we weren't meant to live together, at the same time. Maybe we were even meant to be enemies. But I felt so happy and secure being with Inuyasha. And even though his brother gave me the creeps, frightened me a lot, he and his father were really nice people. They didn't seem like monsters, and Izayoi didn't seem like she was scared to have a youkai in the same bed.

My phone rang and jolted me from my lulling thoughts. I grabbed for it, smiled sheepishly at annoyed looks from other diners, and excused myself.

"Mosh-moshi," I said.

Mama's voice rang from the other end, "Rin? Are you still with Inuyasha."

"Yeah, we're in the middle of dinner. It's a really nice place. Very…posh."

"That's great, Rin. Is _he_ being nice?"

"Inuyasha? Of course, Mama. Don't worry. So why did you call?"

"I need you to do me a favor. Or Kagome actually. Izayoi has some kimono she wants Kagome to try on, for next week's tea ceremony. And since I have to go over some things with the planner tonight before the final details go through, and Souta is out—god knows where that boy is—I need you to do this, Rin."

"But Mama, how am I supposed to get there?"

"Ask Inuyasha and have him drop you off."

"Mama, he's not a chauffeur that I can order around! What if he doesn't want to?"

"Izayoi will have a driver for you then. Don't worry. Please, just do this. It's urgent. I have to go now, I'm sorry. Thank you!"

"Mama, Mama? Mama—wait!"

Damn. She hung up on me. And I had no choice but to go beg Inuyasha for a ride back to his house, explain the circumstance, and plot ways to murder Sesshoumaru before the wedding.

**Tokyo, Japan: **_**Present**_

"He did not. That _bastard_! How could he?" Sango screamed.

"It's okay, Sango. Don't worry about it. I'm actually glad that I know now. It's pointless to feel bad for someone who didn't even die."

"But why did the doctors say he did?"

"See, that's what I'm trying to figure out. I think Sesshoumaru planned this from the start. And now, he's using it against me."

"Okay, we know the guy is a complete jerk but even he wouldn't do this. I mean, who could have predicted the outcome?"

"I could have."

Sango sighed and popped a strawberry into her mouth. "That's a like, and you know it. Think about it: when you married him, did you know what you were getting into?"

"Yes."

"Really?"

"Then did you do it?"

"_You know why_. I had no choice. It was either that or—"

"Or nothing. You had a choice and you chose him."

"Oh please, don't make me fucking _gag_. I didn't choose him, I chose to live."

Sango shrugged. "Whatever. So what are you going to do now?"

"Nothing. I am going to forget about Bankotsu. I mean, the guy has a fucking kid and a wife. I'm not going to be some homewrecker."

"Homewrecker! That's priceless. Rin, Rin, Rin, you were that once already. When you married Sesshoumaru remember? I happen to recall that _Kagome_ was supposed to be with him."

"Yeah, and I was gonna get married to Inuyasha and have a houseful of brats. Look how _that_ turned out."

"You'd never have kids, even if it weren't for that. You're not the motherly type."

"And I expect you and Miroku to be getting it on sometime? When am I going to be the godmother you promised I would be?"

Sango blushed. I loved it. I thought I noticed a slight bump on her stomach.

"Well, I am going to the doctor's…"

"Don't bother. Even I can tell you that you're pregnant."

"I know, but I don't want it to be!"

"You don't want a kid?"

"No, I love kids. And I plan to have two or three, but I just didn't expect myself to be pregnant _now_. I still have to finish your memoir."

"Sango, Forget about that and focus on your impending birth!" I shrieked with laughter.

"Did you know that Inuyasha and Kagome are planning on adopting that kitsune?"

"Shippou? No way…"

"_Yes_! They're finalizing the papers next month."

"I can't believe that. She said they were thinking about it…but really? It's only a week, two at the most, since they first met the kid."

"I guess they must've taken a real liking to him. So, Rin, now that your best friend and sister are going to become mothers soon, how do you feel about making up with Sesshoumaru?"

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"Well, it's just that as a concerned mother," Sango put on her best pretend-worried grimace, "I don't want my child to grow up in a dysfunctional family. And if you're going to be the godmother, I need to know that there's a godfather in the future."

"That's really funny, you're so witty it's priceless. Not going to happen, honey. Not a chance."

Unwittingly, my hand flicked on my lighter and lit a cigarette. Sango yelped and slapped the burning menace out of my hand.

"Sorry," I apologized, couldn't believe I was that stupid.

"It's okay. I'm gonna go get some more strawberries. No more smoking!"

I stabbed the frazzled cigarette into the metal table. We were outside, trying to escape the hot caused by an unnatural heat wave and a broken air conditioner. Sweat beads trailed down my back and neck. My shirt was damp from perspiration. I felt gross, sticky, and in desperate need of a cold shower. My tiny balcony was cramped enough without two grown women invading its domain. Two dying plants decorated the sparse environment. I watered them religiously, but they still wilted despite my frustrated love and care. Sango emerged with a bowl of strawberries covered in honey and an orange popsicle. I gratefully took it from her as she slumped down into the hot metallic chair across from me.

We were the ideal picture of two bored, married women with nothing more productive to do than gossip. Married to wealth and privilege, I lived in an indifferent world as an indifferent child-woman never able to breach the banks of maturity and age yet unable to recede back to the shallower waters of childhood. And now, I was to watch the two women closest to me reach a land I would never step onto. Despite my vehement protests about motherhood (I would never have a child), I still yearned to feel what they feel. I was so sick and tired of living my life vicariously.

"God, I'm feeling restless, Sango. Let's do something tonight."

"Like what?"

"I don't know. Go dancing?"

"I'm not much of a partier…neither are you. What's this all about?"

"I don't know. I just feel so….trapped, like I need to break free before I go crazy. Come on, let's go out for some fun. Just us."

"Okay, sure. Wanna go get ready?"

"Not before I finish this popsicle and the strawberries."

I deftly stabbed at a berry and bit down into it hard. The juice oozed out and my mouth erupted with flavor and sweetness.

**Tokyo, Japan: **_**Past**_

Izayoi, though dainty and having the illusion of being helpless, turned out to be incredibly strong. She hoisted onto Inuyasha large wooden boxes containing, which I assumed, kimono. She snapped open lacquered latches and popped the cover open revealing six different but equally beautiful soft cloths. I ran my fingers carefully over their edges, barely daring to touch the delicate silk.

"Now, we have to pick out the most suitable one for Kagome. But as part of the tradition, she can't see it until the day of."

"It's not the actual wedding is it?" I asked.

"Oh no. Just a very casual tea ceremony, more like tea party, between the two families. Very relaxed, not to worry, Rin. You'll have to wear a kimono too."

"Ah…I don't really have any. I mean, I've got some summer yukata, but they're not like anything formal."

"That's all right. I have the perfect one set out for you. I'll show it to you later. But first, we have to figure out which one would look good on Kagome."

"Izayoi…we're not doing the whole twelve-layer are we?" My mouth downturned in worry. Kagome would be suffocated.

"Definitely not. I'm thinking of just one, maybe two, under-robes, and the kimono."

"Okay, that's good. In that case, I like the pale green one."

I pointed at the one closest to Izayoi's feet, carefully laid in rice paper and velvet. It was light and springy, very pale—nearly translucent—green sprinkled with small yellow flowers with an elaborate, intricate design around the edges. It was simple and pretty, something Kagome would appreciate.

"I thought so too," Izayoi nodded and smiled.

She lifted the kimono and shook it out. Small, fine particles of dust flew from its folds. Carefully, she draped it on a customary bamboo hanger. Leaves brushed against the taut white-bathed windows outside (the ancient, stylized paper windows have long been replaced by their sturdier, modern counterparts of glass). Izayoi was like an artist, a dancer—a geisha resurrected from the Edo period—she moved with grace and certainty. She was fluidity itself. The image of her gliding combined with the timeless, ethereal feeling of the room broke me down speechless. I was entranced by her, this tiny woman capable of, what seemed like, accomplishing anything.

"Rin? Would you like to see yours now?"

"That would be great. I'm really…I don't know what to say. I've never worn a kimono before, and these are so beautiful."

"Don't tell Kagome this, but yours is even better. It was the kimono I wore myself when I first met Inuyasha's father. And with your complexion and thinness, it's a perfect match."

Izayoi propped open the last box (a seventh one she had before now hidden behind her) and pulled out the most beautiful kimono I had ever seen. It was sheer white, soft and snowy, with pink cherry blossoms cascading all across it. There was a painted scene of a cherry blossom viewing. The rendition was so greatly captured it felt alive. I was breathless from shock.

"Oh my god…it's gorgeous. Wow. I umm…wow. Thank you," I managed to sputter out somewhat coherently.

Izayoi laughed sweetly. "Not at all. Try it on."

"Really? Here? But—" I nodded towards a sitting, immensely bored, Inuyasha.

Izayoi shooed her son out of the room, much to his disappointment and my mortification.

"Now, Rin. Try it on."

I peeled off my clothes slowly, conscious and embarrassed, but Izayoi didn't bat an eye. She observed me with the skill and experience of a practiced seamstress, measuring me mentally. I could swear I heard her murmur my measurements on the sly, and they were uncannily accurate. She helped me into the kimono and tied the obi tightly at the back and led me to the floor-length mirror.

Unlike Kagome and Mama, I was one of those unfortunate women without a distinct figure (even now, I still retain the figure of a boy). Although modern fashion demands for women to be thin, the fashion world also desires for women to be voluptuous in certain areas. This physical impossibility could only be attained by a limited, extraordinary few. My shoulders were broad and bony, but I had no breasts and no hips. My waist, sadly, did not curve inwards like they were molded by natural corset bindings. Instead, they went straight down, and no amount of altering or disguising could give me the appearance of feminine grace.

"It's so beautiful…and light. Almost like I'm not wearing anything at all."

"It's because you're not wearing an under-robe right now, silly. But it's a good thing this is a summer robe otherwise you'll be sweltering soon enough. Goodness, Rin, you're so thin. We might have to add some padding."

I burned crimson at that.

"Don't worry, I'm sure that once we get you in layers it won't be so bad," Izayoi assured me gently.

I prayed desperately that we didn't need padding like they used to do. The thought of being _that_ traditional frightened me. I still didn't know how I was supposed to walk, sit, _move_ in a kimono. Every thought was concentrated on merely not accidentally ripping the raw silk.

"As for the decorum part," she continued smoothly, "That can be arranged. It's very simple, Rin. Before I married Touga, I wasn't well-versed with all their etiquette either. Youkai…they do things differently. Anyway, thank you for coming today, Rin. Please give this to Kagome and tell her I expect her to be here next week promptly at seven in the morning. _Sharp_. Not a second late."

"Sure. And thank you again for the lovely kimono. It's very generous of you to let me wear it."

"Then keep it."

"What? But I couldn't. It's too lovely to part with."

Izayoi laughed again, tossing her head back, eyes sparkling with cleverness. "I'm too old to wear something like that, and I have no daughters. I really like you, Rin. Think of it as a small gift."

"But…it's so…"

"Beautiful? You're a pretty girl yourself. It suits you perfectly."

She pushed the second box towards me and held my hands in hers. I squeezed her slender fingers for a moment and thanked her copiously. I had never received something this remarkable (the electronic wastelands I craved for usually did not count).

"Rin, Mom? You guys done yet?" Inuyasha practically shouted outside the sliding screen.

"Yes, you may come in now. Rin is decent."

I hastily stood up.

"So, can you give me a ride home?" I asked when we were nearly out the door.

"Yeah but let's go swimming first."

"_Swimming_? Where? It's the middle of the night." The clock read nine so it was almost true.

"Why not? It's fucking hot outside—sorry. So let's go."

"But I don't have a bathing suit."

"That's okay."

He gave me a wicked look and I punched his arm.

"Fiesty, eh?"

"No. More like disturbed at your lasciviousness."

"Sorry, I'm no nerd. What does that mean?"

"It means—"

"C'mon, go have some fun. You're always so uptight."

"I am _not_ uptight. I am simply…I don't know. Really stressed out, I guess."

"So take a long swim, it won't kill you. I'll show you the pool."

He led me to the back of the house and outside into the backyard. If it could be called that. The lawn was spacious, covering endless acres from what I could see. The cobbled paths were lit with Japanese lanterns and various stone benches dotted the walkways. Set to the side, on a regal throne and palisaded from meddling peons, was the biggest pool ever. Olympic size—perhaps larger—all lined in natural stone, with a waterfall pouring feeding water into it, the pool inveigled me to take a dip. _Just a small one_, I told myself. It looked so inviting, so refreshingly cool. My burning skin ached to be touched by the water, feel its anodyne caresses all over my sore limbs.

I cursed silently. Inuyasha knew. He knew I would be sold as soon as I set eyes on the behemoth. Nonetheless, I played it cool and feigned apathy.

"Oh, is this it?"

He laughed (wasn't sold by my poor performance).

"You in or what?"

"But I don't have a bathing suit."

"So?"

"I'm not _stripping_."

"I didn't mean that."

"Inuyasha! I'm not going in with just a bra and underwear."

"Fine. Damn, you're such a prude. I'll go find a suit for you."

"You guys have girls' swimwear just lying around?"

"Yeah. We've got lingerie too if you're up to it later."

"No thank you. But I'll take a bathing suit."

"Sure thing. I'll get the skimpiest one I can find."

"You're turning into Miroku, you perv."

"No, I'm a guy."

I pushed him towards the door and laid down on a poolside recliner. My eyes were dry and groggy. It had been a long, long day. I felt like a ninety-year-old lady. Inuyasha returned and tossed me two teensy-weensy black strips. I growled at him, making known my aversion.

"Inuyasha, what the hell is this?" I held up the top (or maybe bottom) and waved it angrily.

"A bikini. Put it on in the pool house. I'll go get some drinks."

"This isn't a bikini. It's…god, I don't even know what. It…" I gave up, exasperated and too hot to argue longer.

Grudgingly I walked into the pool house and flicked on the lights. The place was musty and cramped with boxes all over the floor. However, the scent of pine wax and freshly laundered curtains informed me the place was recently visited. Someone had attempted to make it habitable again. Some of the boxes were open with the contents strewn out. Most of them were family albums and old newspapers and outgrown clothes. A baby's booties, torn yukata (the cheap kind, not the exquisite works of art Izayoi showed me earlier), and other paraphernalia that a family stuffs away when their usefulness were up.

I sat down and began shifting through some the old photos, entirely aware that I was being nosy and snooping and completely base. But my incorrigible curiosity couldn't be quelled. Absentmindedly I picked up a small, mundane one covered in lilac cloth. I flipped open to a random page and dropped the book. I stifled a scream rising in my throat. The picture stared at me, haunting and mesmerizing.

It was her.

The woman.

The one I saw in the silver frame in Sesshoumaru's room last semester. The same woman with the same pretty smile, wide cinnamon-brown eyes, and thin, sculpted face. She was younger in this photo, maybe around thirteen and clad in a dress that had been chic in the 1920s. She had a simple silver chain around her supple neck with a dangling amber pendant in the shape of a rose. There was something eerily recognizable about the way she cocked her neck and smiled teasingly. And then I realized: I was right the last time. The girl was me. She looked so alike, so…It was like staring into a mirror tracing three years back. My eyes were more slanted upwards and honey-tinted with golden specks that emerged in sunlight (Mama blamed it on our French descent from Daddy's side) and my mouth fuller, wider set. My cheekbones were higher too, more raw and pronounced—less feminine—but otherwise, we could have been twins.

But it was impossible. I wasn't a twin and I certainly wasn't alive in the twenties. Besides, she had a westernized air about her, and I had never left Japan. Consumed with intrigue and trepidation, I flipped through the other pages, searching for some sign, some clue. They were all her, every single photo acted as a documentary piece of her life. They ranged from a young girl (eight, I think) to early twenties. And then they stopped. I looked for more evidence in the other albums nearby but they were mostly of Izayoi, Touga, and Inuyasha with the infrequent snapshots of an impressively (impassively) irritated Sesshoumaru. I felt a chill running through my body. It was like the woman had just vanished. There were no traces of her other than the last photo, capturing her in a floor-sweeping evening gown, her back towards the audience and smiling her mysterious smile. I gaped. Would that be me ten years from now? I didn't dare ponder on the thought.

Shakily, I stashed the album away with its neglected companions and exited the pool house (doubled as storage). Inuyasha had not returned yet. I heard shouting from the main house; probably he and Izayoi were bickering about his attire. She kept threatening to trim his hair (or hack-and-slash it away as he put it). Eager to calm my nerves, I dived into the pool, making a little splash as I entered. My body glided through the clear, bluish waters, eyes opened—searching. The pool was lit from the floor-up, giving my body an iridescent glow around the edges.

I swam a few laps, desperate to drown out the thundering thoughts slamming against my skull. My breathing became heavy and harsh, not from the exercise, but from my racing thoughts—ideas—every minute possibility that fleeted through my mind. I was so engrossed in my thoughts that I didn't notice someone else had joined.

"What are you doing here?" I came to an abrupt stop, breathing still erratic.

"To pick up some things," Sesshoumaru replied simply.

"No, I mean why're you in the pool?"

"To swim."

Still suspicious, I treaded away from him and raised myself until I could sit stably on a protruding stone slab. He swam towards me, unfazed. I scooted back further until my back was being stabbed by crenulated sandstone. He didn't stop.

"So, um, how are you?"

He ignored my question, hands roaming up my calves. He was too close. Fearful. Frozen. I pushed against the wall, letting the hardness dig into my spine.

"What are you doing?"

No answer.

Hands roamed higher, parted my legs, caressing my thighs. I wanted to kick, struggle, my way out. Terrified, I tried brushing his hands off. He growled and pulled at the band of the bikini shorts.

"Hey, can you stop that? What the hell are you doing? This isn't funny. I'm serious. _Stop it_."

For a second, I thought my demand worked. But he merely paused before flickering a wry, slight smile. I saw the fangs again and shuddered, which only seemed to amuse him more. He pulled me down into the pool. My foot grasped for the floor, head submerged as I fought for steadiness. Sesshoumaru lifted me up and cupped my lower back as my legs instinctively wrapped around his torso. He walked—half-lifting, half floating—until my hand could grasp onto a railing. I held tightly, knuckles bleeding white. My head rushed, dizzy, eyes winced from confusion, hysteria, and lust. His mouth was on my mine, parting my lips open effortlessly. We kissed longingly. My hands swept back his hair until the crescent moon marking on his forehead became visible. I glided my fingers over it. He growled, a guttural, primeval sound ascending from his chest.

His kisses moved lower, nipping at my collarbone, lower, lower, descending just above my breasts. My nipples tensed from the excitement and cold. He nuzzled through the gauzy fabric, licking and tasting my flesh. I squirmed in his grasp, caught in the moment, unable to think straight and push free. He flicked at a nipple while a hand was reaching for the other one. Coming to my sense temporarily (I was so scared by this point) I stepped back, away. He held down my arms and continued. I turned my head and saw—to my absolute horror—Inuyasha above the waters. The hazy lights obscured my vision (I wasn't exactly sharp momentarily either), and I couldn't see his expression clearly. But I knew: there was going to be hell to pay.

**Tokyo, Japan: **_**Present**_

True to her word, Sango agreed to go dancing with me. We showered, dressed hurriedly, and swabbed on some quick, easy make-up. Sango in her trademark cerise lipstick and I in a backless black halter. We giggled like airheaded, inane schoolgirls the whole time, couldn't believe we were actually doing this, couldn't remember the last time we laughed so freely while anticipating a night of agitated, injudicious fun. No respite. No regret. That had been our motto a long time ago. We had chanted it up and down the hallways of high school, the quads of college, drunken bars and technicolor nightclubs, and finally, down each other's weddings. But for years now, we had reverted into our shells (before we met) and never strayed from the safe, given path. Sango had her career to think about, and I was still resisting a fate I never thought anyone could deserve—no matter how wretched, how heinous.

We stumbled into a more subdued place sometime between eleven and twelve, slightly tipsy from the three shots each we had earlier at a favorite bar. Our faces were smeared with glitter, contracted from some less fortunate, more sleazy place (we left before we were even completely inside), and hair messy and tangled. Thankfully, I was prudent enough to have tied it up into a bun. Sango's loose, luscious tresses fanned behind her face, giving her the wild sensation of a brazenly beautiful and untamable mare.

She pulled me into a tight embrace, and laughing our crazed heads off, we downed countless drinks in between dances. We moved with passionate ferocity that night, like two lovers caught in an insane, eternal tango. Her hips moved against mine, and I wanted more than anything to have been in love with Sango, to feel her sensuous body against my lank one, to twist and turn as one entity.

"I know what you're thinking, Rin," she whispered wickedly.

"Oh yeah? And what's that, smartass?"

"You want him. I know."

"Want who?"

"That guy over there."

"Who?" I whisked my head around.

The man Sango had in mind was a lone youkai, outfitted in a tailored, expensive black pinstripe suit. He dragged on a cigarette and beckoned me towards him.

"Sango…that's Kouga."

"Who's that?"

"Someone you don't want to know. I'll see you later okay? This should only take a sec."

I walked over to Kouga, arms crossed, frowning, exuding the general aura of disdainful displeasure.

"Who's the broad?" he asked, blunt and vicious as ever.

"Sango. Why're you here?"

"Your husband paid me to watch you."

"What the hell?"

"Said to keep you out of trouble, make sure you don't end up dead in a ditch somewhere—not like last time."

"God, Kouga, I swear. I'm going to wring that stupid neck of yours one day."

"I'd like to see you try, dollface. You can't even wrap your bony fingers around it," he grinned evilly, "I'm a youkai. And you're just a human bitch."

I laughed at the pun. He infuriated me to no end, but he was better company than this so-called husband of mine.

"So how much is he paying you to tail me this time?"

"Ten grand."

"That's it?"

"A _week_. In Euros, _cash_."

I let out a low whistle.

"That's a shitload of money."

"You bet, so you better not get into any trouble or I'm gonna get nasty."

"Oh, honey, you already are. A virulent plague sent to thrash me, no doubt."

"I'd never touch you."

"That's true. Too scared to, I'm betting."

"Oh yeah?"

"Don't be an adulterer, Kouga. It's fucking unattractive. And Ayame would sooner kill you than blame me."

He howled at my hilarious joke (not).

"Stay outa trouble, kid. And oh, yeah, before I forget—with all our flirting and your obvious lust for me—Sesshoumaru asked me to give you this."

He haphazardly dropped a wispy silver chain into my outstretched hand. I clutched it tightly, and muttered a sarcastic gratitude.

"He's a fucking asshole," I whispered.

"I know," and Kouga agreed softly.


	5. Russian Ballet: Tchaikovsky’s 2nd Mov

**Author's Note:**Well, that was a rather fast update! Seems like I've found my muse again. And now, I have some bad news for everyone....I really do hate asking for this, because I think it's pitiable to beg for reviews, but I feel that I need to impose this new policty. No reviews means no updates. Five or more reviews and I will update. I know, I'm being a total asshat, but I just feel that all my hardwork is for nothing. I'd really, really appreciate some feedback from the readers.

* * *

**Chapter 5  
Russian Ballet: Tchaikovsky's 2nd Mov.**

_For our anniversary, he took us to a ballet performance. In Moscow (first class). A balcony was cleared, just for us. I was so happy, so grateful. And then I remembered my old ballet shoes and how they would be too worn to use by the end of the month. That's when I realized: this was a sad farewell, as if to say…our time is up. Song ends, the swans die. Repetition becomes an invaluable, inherent segment of life. _

**Tokyo, Japan: **_**Past**_

"You did what!" Sango shrieked the moment she waltzed inside, all fury and wrath.

I cringed at her accusation, though it was more than a fair judgment. "I'm sorry. I'm really, really sorry. It just sort of _happened_."

"Oh god, Rin. No, shit like that does _not_ just 'sort of happen'! What you did was despicable, was _disgusting_. What is wrong with you? I thought you _hated_ the guy, not secretly thought he was hot shit."

"I _don't_ think he's 'hot shit'. It was a kiss, that's it. And it wasn't the first ti—" The words died mid-sentence. I had basically condemned myself.

"Oh! So there were previous trysts too, eh? And while the two of you were making out and doing who knows what, did you ever think about your sister? Or Inuyasha for that matter?"

"Of course I did! I would never do anything to hurt them. I'm…I'm so stupid, aren't I?"

"Yes, you are. But at least you're admitting it. That's the first step. So what did Inuyasha say?"

"What _could_ he have said? He caught his girlfriend and his brother getting hot and heavy in the pool."

"Not to mention the age difference."

I winced again. That was not something I had thought about; regardless, I was never going to talk or see Sesshoumaru again so predicament resolved. However, Sango wasn't going to let me off the hook so easily.

"But he's a youkai…so they don't see 'age' as we do."

Sango nodded fiercely. Her cunning eyes searching and lips dripping with sarcasm. "You're right, absolutely. Since he's a _youkai_, then it'd be like a one-hundred-year-old man sleazy pervert groping an infant. That makes it _so_ much better. I swear, how come you always get yourselves into these situations?"

"_Me_? And what about _you_? What were you and Miroku doing last night when I called? I heard some very interesting sounds in the background."

Sango blushed. "Never mind that. The point is, Rin, what are you going to tell Kagome and Inuyasha? And don't give me shit like 'I'm handling the situation' because you sure as hell aren't!"

"I'm not going to call. I'm simply going to pretend nothing ever happened and move on with life!"

"Uh huh," she said, unconvinced, "So when you have to see Kagome, Sesshoumaru, and Inuyasha—oh, and both sets of parents—again, you're just gonna play it cool? Real tactful, Rin. Tell me how that turns out."

"Okay, okay. I'm sorry. Please, help me figure out what to do."

Sango sighed dramatically, letting me broil in my stupidity. I couldn't blame her. No matter how much I thought about it, I still couldn't deduce why I did what I did. It just felt like we'd known each other long before I had any recollections of…anything. As if we were meant to encounter each other in this lifetime. He was an enigma sent my way. And we were both two unfortunate parts slung into the crossfire.

"I still think you should talk to Inuyasha about this. Kagome, well…hey, what she doesn't know won't hurt, right? I'll accede to your lunacy this time. But, I mean, Inuyasha _saw_ everything. That'll be pretty difficult to ignore, assuming that you guys are still going out. Has he called you?" Sango continued, not batting an eye, and finally giving in to my pathetic pleas.

"No, he hasn't. I know I should call him, but I can't muster up the courage to do so," I replied lamely.

"Well, you better do it soon."

"Maybe….I'll just talk to him the morning before the tea ceremony. And…there is the ballet to see later that night. Oh god, I really do love _Swan Lake_, and the bloody _Russian_ ballet company is touring Tokyo this week only! This is just great. I might as well give up on life right now since all future endeavors at artistic expression have been shot—"

"Rin, shut up and breathe. You're taking this way out of proportion, and I can't believe I just said that. Yes, what you did was bad, and I am still going to bitch at you about it. But for now, let's just figure out a course of action. When is the tea ceremony?"

"Tomorrow," I muttered, about to die and bury my shame forever.

As expected, Sango flipped. Her eyes bugged out, mouth agape, and went berserk like a Scandinavian Viking bent on pillage and plunder. I slumped further into my seat, willing myself to fuse with the chair.

"_Tomorrow_!" she yelled, "Are you crazy…it's been a week and you two haven't said anything. What have you been saying to each other at school?"

"Nothing! I don't see him usually. And at lunch, I just stay holed up in a classroom, asking for extra help on assignments. Besides, where have _you_ been? I haven't seen _you_ all week either."

Her ears tipped with red. "Never mind me. I was with Miroku…doing homework."

"Oh, so since when have you two been so chummy? I so fucking knew it. Finally caved and took him up on that date offer?"

"Rin, stop avoiding the subject at hand. We are here to talk about you and your whorish ways. We can talk about me after this issue concludes."

"How eloquently put. It's not like I technically _cheated_."

"Ha, not cheating? That's cheating, hon'. You're two-timing Inuyasha with his brother, who also happens to be _your_ sister's fiancé."

"Stop it, Sango. I'm dying of humiliation as it is without you rubbing it in."

We sat in a rough silence while Sango thought of new ways to evince her vexation, and I simply withered under her penetrating glare. Eventually, she broke down and condescended to speak to me again. I admit: my overly self-righteous defense tactics were not improving the grave situation. And Sango was not one to put up with my sophistic, roundabout arguments for long.

"I guess there's not much to do now but wait and see what happens tomorrow. Maybe pray that you don't screw up again. Only joking, Rin. I doubt you and Sesshoumaru can have sex in that environment. I mean, those ceremonial rooms are _tiny_."

"Sango! Please, the last thing on my mind will be having sex with him. I just want to survive tomorrow without permanent traumatic stress."

Sango bit down her lip, deep in contemplation. "Maybe we're looking at this the wrong way. Maybe nothing is actually wrong. Maybe they both forgot about it by now…"

"Yeah, that's _real_ likely."

"Hey, I'm just trying to help. I'm trying to see _all _possibilities. Well, okay, how about you _pretend_ to have forgotten about it, just act like nothing happened—after first apologizing to Inuyasha, of course. This way, you're taking the initiative on saying: we're all adults here. An incident occurred but that doesn't mean the world's come to an end. So let's all just move on."

I nodded slowly, taking in her words devoutly. "Perhaps. I thought about that, but what if Inuyasha throws a fit?"

"So what? Then that shows he's a jealous guy, most of them are. But you've done what you can, and he can't exactly expect more from you can he? Sure you're a dirtbag but you're not a _malicious_ dirtbag."

"Wow, Sango, thank you. I feel enormously better already," I snapped sarcastically and then immediately regretted it. She was only trying to help. I had no right to be so snappy at her. I had incurred this upon myself.

She shrugged, not bothered at all. "Whatever. I'm just saying the truth. Do what you want, Rin. But you better figure it out soon. You only have," she glanced at her watch, "thirteen hours and twenty-nine minutes."

…

"Inuyasha! Inuyasha, wait, please, just hear me out for a second," I called out vociferously—though half-whispering and muffled by the stuff air.

He scoffed and quickened his pace. I fought back angry tears and embarrassed indignation. My mother and his parents were far ahead of us, chatting away as they headed towards the room where the tea ceremony will take place. Sesshoumaru and Kagome have not yet arrived. Souta and Grandpa, forced to come along this time (they were both running out of excuses), were shuffling along not too far behind us. No one was exactly rejoicing at the ungodly hour we had to wake up and the monumental task it took for everyone to get ready.

Kagome and I were up since six, arrived at the hotel promptly at seven had suffered through nearly two and a half hours of preparation. Kagome was still in a suite upstairs, having the "finishing touches" painted on her face. Sesshoumaru, the eternally obedient and restive guard dog, waited outside her door to escort her downstairs. I refused any cosmetics and grooming aside from the bare minimum, donned the kimono as quick and lackadaisically as I could before rushing to find Inuyasha. I knew that I was far from elegant and would get an earful about it later. However, if I didn't apologize to Inuyasha now, I would never find the bravery to do it again.

"Please! I'm sorry, Inuyasha, I really am. I fucked up, I know. I just want to talk to you." I had finally caught up with him, years of running marathons paid off.

He glared at me, eyes black and lethal. "What."

It was the first time I'd sensed any youkai in him and was terrified. "What you saw last Saturday—what happened between me and your brother—it was an accident. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. What I did was a mistake, and I don't expect you to forgive me. I don't deserve it. But I just wanted to tell you that—"

"Rin, you're full of crap so just cut it out."

"What? No, I'm serious. I'm genuinely sorry, Inuyasha."

"I don't know why I'm bothering listening to this. Everyone told me not to go out with you, said it was a bad mistake. I _knew_ it wasn't gonna turn out good, but I did anyway. I didn't care, Rin. What my family thought."

"Wait. Your _family_? They….they didn't want you to go out with me?" My words faltered. Never had I anticipated this sort of response. I was hurt.

"Yeah. My dad and Sesshoumaru—"

"_Sesshoumaru_? What the hell? Why was he so against it? Why does your family hate me?"

He shook his head, exasperated. "They don't _hate_ you, Rin. They really like you. My dad thinks you're hilarious. But they just didn't want me dating you."

"But…why? My sister's going to _marry_ your brother, so why can't I just go out with you?"

"Well…it's complicated. There are reasons I can't talk about. And…okay, just keep this between you and me…but my dad isn't so hot on Sesshoumaru and Kagome marrying either."

"What! But the wedding's in—what the hell. Why didn't he say anything earlier?"

"Calm down, damn it. He's not trying to separate them or anything. Look, it's more complicated than what I can tell you. So don't butt into it, okay?"

Now I was offended. "This concerns my family too. Don't you think I have a right to know?"

"There's a difference between having the right and actually knowing. Just let it go, Rin. And as for what happened last weekend….I…I forgive you. I don't know what happened and I don't _want_ to know what happened. So stop apologizing so much."

"Really? I…I still want to go out with you, Inuyasha. I still like you a lot. And seriously, what happened with Sesshoumaru, that was nothing. I think I must've been drunk that night. But if you want to avoid me, hate me, I understand. I'll know I got what I deserve."

He laughed. "You had water at dinner."

"Okay, then I went temporarily crazy. I can't stand Sesshoumaru there's no way in my sane mind I'd ever kiss him."

"Don't say that."

"Say what?"

"Say stuff like 'I can't stand him'."

"But it's true. And you openly express your hatred for him, _daily_."

"I know. But it's different for me. Don't hate the guy. He's…he's had to make a lot of difficult choices in his life."

"Yeah, and it must've been one hell of a lifetime."

"More years than you can count. So cut him some slack."

"Why are you suddenly defending him, Inuyasha?"

"I'm _not_. I'm saying…forget it. We have to go."

Our conversation ceased as we approached the sliding rice doors. A smiling woman opened them, hearing our bickering no doubt, and bowed us in. She was old and wrinkled but had a kind of mature beauty about her, glowing from the inside, like a saint. I realized suddenly that she was a priestess, wearing the traditional garments of a shrine maiden. She took us to our respective seats (mine next to Inuyasha's, across from our parents, with two empty seats next to us).

"Welcome," she began in a soft voice, "Today is an auspicious day. Behold, before us, two individuals, different in nature, in _nurture. _Yet, despite these obstacles, they have dutifully dedicated themselves to each other. Matrimony is more than a union of two people. It is…"

Her voice droned on and on, and I struggled to understand her. She had an obscure accent, which I couldn't decipher properly. The intonations and nuances had an ancient flair to them, and I could barely comprehend the surface-level meaning, least of all the underlying allusions and metaphors.

Next to me, Inuyasha's head kept bobbing up and down, a sure sign he was fighting a losing battle against sleep. I nudged him, my hand concealed inside the long sleeves of my kimono. He retaliated with a shove. I smiled, knowing that things were progressing back to normal between us. I noticed Sesshoumaru frowning deeply at our antic, childish displays, never failing to stay in character, the cold prick. Kagome kept her head straight, drilling into the old woman's monotonous monologue piously. I suppressed a yawn and straightened my back, forcing myself to appear alert and attentive.

"Kaede-san, thank you so much for coming today," Izayoi spoke.

My leg prickled as spasms shot through muscle, my neck twitched, and eyelids fluttered. It was finally over. I had never heard anyone speak for so long and in the same quality continuously. Her tone never wavered. It was miraculous that she hadn't lost her voice halfway through. Although I had missed most of the speech, it must have been pretty impressive because Mama, Izayoi, and Kagome set with an odd, deferential look in their eyes. They practically gazed at Kaede-san with holy reverence, bowing before a motionless Buddha or a bloody Crucifix.

"It was my pleasure, Izayoi. And now, I suppose we can cast aside all this formality. These two," Kaede nodded right at Inuyasha and me, "looked like they're about to fall asleep."

"Please forgive, Rin, she's not very accustomed to these things," Mama said.

"And the same with Inuyasha. I apologize for my son," Izayoi bowed.

Kaede laughed merrily. "Not at all. We were all teenagers once. Of course, that was a long time ago for me personally. Now, what say we bring out some of these delicious sweets I've been hearing so much about."

Izayoi perked up. Sweets were her forte in cooking. "Right away."

She brought out wooden boxes, carved and decorated with gold and red and black paint, filled with pastries. Kurimanju, mushimanju, and namagashi just to name a few. I was delighted at the beautiful, tiny buns stuffed with red and green bean and tea pastes. They looked so adorable sitting perfectly even and moist on their wooden pedestals. Izayoi poured tea for everyone, and soon the room was permeated with the rich aromatic fragrances of strong green tea. My head became lighter and lighter as the tea scent danced into my nostrils. I inhaled and sighed happily, taking in deep their intoxicating flavors.

Soon, more natural, casual conversation commenced. Mama and Izayoi dove right into a new round of gossip and tidbits. Touga nodded patiently as Grandpa complained about his endless aches from rheumatism. A stilted conversation was volleyed back and forth between the older and younger generations of us "children". No one willed to comment much. I managed to say as little as possible, persistently sipped my tea and picked at the cakes. Souta and Inuyasha provided unwholesome entertainment for each other, but there was an awkward stiffness between Sesshoumaru and Kagome. Although I have never seen them being anything more than _decorous_ and _proper_ to each other, they were particularly frigid this morning. Kagome, especially. She merely looked at him with the slightest glances and answered as perfunctorily as possible. He inquired on all the usual, hollow drivel: health, weather, etc. She responded quietly and in monosyllables. A few times, I saw her trying to catch my eye before tersely replying.

Eventually, Sesshoumaru tired of her laconic behavior and turned his sadistic eyes towards me. I blanched as he smiled a bit and drank some tea, lips pursued into a thin sneer. It became suddenly, agonizingly hot in the room despite cool air being filtered in at full capacity. My kimono's collar started choking me. I twisted at the edges of my sleeves, hands demurely in my lap, eyes cast down. However, he wasn't deterred or fooled one bit.

"You look well, Rin."

"As do you, Sesshoumaru."

"I see you and my little brother are still cozy."

"So?"

"A perfect match."

"Unlike you and Kagome," I grumbled.

"You're mistaken."

I forgot. Supernatural ears. Damn youkai. "How am I mistaken?"

"We are more suitable for each other than you and Inuyasha."

"Really? At least we seem to still have fun with each other."

He smiled cruelly. My blood cooled. "Confident on matters you have no idea."

"What are you talking about. We're just going out, what's so bad about that?"

"A great deal."

"Oh, that's right, I forgot. You're really opposed to us dating. Why is that, Sesshoumaru-_sama_?"

"You were not meant to be."

I rolled my eyes. "A lot of bull, too much for a youkai of _your_ eminent standing. I didn't think people still believed in the red strings of fate anymore."

"I don't."

"Then what's up with all this destiny talk?"

"I simply said you two are wrong for each other. Nothing about destiny or fate. You assume too much, human."

"I know what you're implying!" I was growing tense and irritated. He was the most unbelievably infuriating man, and a smart one at that. Arguing with him was more exhausting than it's worth. Any faint glimmer of triumph I earned would just be snatched back with the next sentence.

"Whatever. Why don't you go bother my sister now? She actually seems to like you, god knows why."

He gave a low chuckle. "You're more fond of me than you care to show."

"Lies. I'm not listening to this."

"I seem to recall what transpired last Saturday."

"What about last Saturday?" Kagome interjected. She had been completely ignoring her fiancé until that moment, absorbed in banter with Mama about some wedding detail.

"Nothing," I answered hastily.

She narrowed her eyes sharply at me then him, rightfully suspecting something but didn't bother pursuing the matter.

"Please don't say anything to Kagome," I whispered to Sesshoumaru as soon as she returned to her previous discussion.

"That will be up to my discretion."

_Shit_. I was done for this time. "Up to my discretion" that meant anything from "okay, Rin, I'm sorry. I won't mention it again" to "do what I say or suffer". Indubitably, he would put everything in much more sententious sentiments. Nonetheless, I refused to be coerced to do his bidding. It took a masochist to foresee what a sadist plans, and it took a master masochist to plan a counterattack.

"I am sorry, my lord. Rin was insolent to request that."

I hung my head in mock-dishonor. His eyes widened the slightest centimeter. I didn't know what I had done precisely, but it created the desired effect: he was caught off guard at last.

**Tokyo, Japan: **_**Present**_

October 14 was a fantastic day in my biased opinion: the heat spell finally abated, giving the poor, agonizing denizens of Tokyo some relief. It was the day I met my adoptive nephew, Shippou, who was the cutest, sweetest (he was slightly grouchy from haven been woken from his nap) kitsune in the world. His chubby cheeks dimpled with charm and honey; the little darling's missing tooth further added to his appeal. Kagome and I chatted for a long time while Shippou amused himself with the TV (thanks to satellite, there were over five hundred channels for him to skim over) and a large slice of chocolate cake, smearing fudge and frosting all over his face.

Kagome and I each had a tippling of clear apricot liquor, cooled from the fridge, with wet beads still falling down the glass side. Hers squeezed with lemon and orange peels, mine with a stuffed olive. It was our habitual drink when we visited each other. We joked that we drank it more for the memories than the taste, which was rather bland compared to most fruity alcohols.

"So, Kagome," I swirled around my drink lazily, "guess who came to see me last night."

"Who?"

"A certain Mr. Wolf."

"_Kouga_? Nakamura Kouga?"

"Who else?"

"In the dead of night, I'm guessing. Someone has a crush on you. You're so scandalous, little sister."

I scoffed, "Hardly. You were the one he was bursting with passionate love for."

"Then there came Ayame, the golden iris. But what does he want with you…now?"

"My _dear_ husband sent him to spy on me. Only Kouga was kind enough to inform me of that."

"So his loyalty lies with you," Kagome remarked skeptically.

I stretched and yawned loudly. It had been a long day. "Nope. He serves only money. Therefore, whoever can pay more will gain our Mr. Wolf's abilities."

"Sesshoumaru will win. He's got billions to blow off."

"I suppose except…I've got another trick up my sleeve."

"You're insane," Kagome gestured.

I frowned at her accurate judgment, but in my defense, it was a brilliant plan...in theory. She was right, to an extent. Sesshoumaru knew most of my tricks and was cunning enough to presage any future ones. However, I was as obdurate as him if needed. And I was not going to sit back and watch myself get trampled. (My curiosity and restlessness itched to uncover the truth behind these illusions.)

"Maybe. But I've got something on Kouga that'll bend him to his knees," I couldn't help add smugly.

"Oh really? Do tell of this ingenious idea, Rin."

"Simple. _Blackmail_. I've kept quiet on Kouga's part in the last 'incidence' but my mouth is loosening up, and I'm going senile. I just might 'slip' something out."

Kagome laughed. "You're not going _senile_. That's really devious. Tell me what else are you planning? Like how are you going to implement your flawless scheme?"

"I'm just so sick of Sesshoumaru having the upper hand in this. I just want him to leave me alone. Plus, get the best of _him_ for once. Sadly, I'm still in the planning stages."

"You shouldn't mess with him too much. You know that's impossible with the—"

"I know, Kagome. Just wait. But that doesn't mean I can't _try_."

Her brows knotted together, puzzled. "Are you sure you want to do this? Isn't that just being stupid? What's the point of fighting him after everything that happened? You should just live your life and _enjoy_ it out of spite. I'm sure that'll wound him more than anything."

"But that's just what he wants!"

"I don't see how…"

"He wants _me_ to bear the burden of _his_ past actions. But why should I? I'm not that little kid anymore, ready to do everything he says. I'm a different person."

"But he doesn't know that."

"No, he knows it. He just doesn't want to believe it. He wants to defy the laws of gods and nature, but even youkai don't have that much power. I'm starting to think this whole disastrous 'connection' between us was made up to prove his own ego."

Kagome doubled over with laughter, spilling some of her drink. "Yeah right! That sounds more like Inuyasha than _Sesshoumaru_. He's too sure of himself to prove anything to anyone, least of all some nameless gods that might not even exist. I think he's sincerely sorry and ashamed of what he did, and he's trying to make it up to you."

"He doesn't have a heart," I shook my head vigorously.

"Maybe he does. He's youkai. They're different. He's a product of different times than us. Maybe this is the only way for him to show his apologies. Also, he's a guy. Their feelings don't exactly encompass a lot of area."

"Okay, then how come _you_ know so much about everything?"

"I just do." Kagome shrugged.

I lit a cigarette, desperate to sneak in a smoke before Sango arrived later with her pregnant stomach. "If you say so. I don't care. I'm going on a date with Kouga tonight."

Kagome sputtered, shocked speechless, choking on her drink. I grinned like a child drugged on morphine.

"_Are you serious?_"

"Yeah, he's taking me out to eat and then a play or ballet performance."

"But…but _Ayame_!"

"Oh, Kagome, no. I didn't mean that kind of date. It's purely professional. Ayame knows of course. Kouga and I have no interest in each other."

She hit my arm hard, still recuperating from the alarm I gave her. "Stop scaring me like that! What's all this about, Rin? It still sounds…fishy. I don't know how Ayame is agreeing to this."

"I invited Ayame too, but she declined, something about the kids? Did you know they have two already? Anyway, tonight is just so we can talk without unwanted observation."

"Uh huh," she drawled out, full of disbelief, "And what matters would this 'date' cover?"

"Sorry, but I can't tell you that."

"Rin!"

"Sorry! I'm kidding, you know I am. I have to figure it out first myself. But I'm expecting some damn good answers or it's off to jail he goes."

"Don't be vicious. It's ugly as sin."

"Not so. And that's the bell, it's Sango. Time to get ready."

"Then you better hide that cigarette dangling from your charming lips."

Kagome sighed heavily while I ran out to open the door. My stomach was twittering with butterflies. Despite what I said about him at times, I really did appreciate Kouga. He was a good friend and an even more competent informant. Plus, his lack of moral inhibitions was going to work to my advantage this time. I smiled brightly as I greeted a frazzled Sango. My thoughts were already scheming the night's events. Like well-oiled gadgets and gears, they rushed into motion, working out every possible kink to my plan. (Kagome's words lingered with me, keeping tag like mystifying malaise, but I didn't dare ruminate over them. Because if she was right then that meant my reasoning would lead to irrevocable catastrophe.)

…

"Mr. Wolf, you look dashing tonight," I smiled as I allowed Kouga to kiss my hand gallantly.

"Please, it's Kouga. The whole 'Mr. Wolf' really is an obnoxious nickname. I thought we agreed you'd stop addressing me as that last time."

"But it's so appropriate, fits you like a glove. Anyway, Mr. Wolf, where to tonight?"

"Your favorite restaurant," he said, howling with sarcasm.

I made a face, which only seemed to amuse him more. Somehow, the idea of a tranquil atmosphere and exorbitantly priced seafood did not entice my palate. Having a friendly, catching-up-among-old-friends dinner was the farthest thing I wanted. But for facades, I smiled and agreed readily.

"That sounds great. I'll order something so expensive your wallet will cry."

"Not with what your husband's paying me."

"Oh, that's right. How's my double-agent doing?"

"He doesn't suspect anything…yet."

"You make it sound like he'll find out."

"It's just a matter of time. I wouldn't be surprised if he hired someone else to tail _me_."

"No, that wouldn't be surprising. Careful now or you'll go paranoid like me."

"Maybe I already am."

"Then you wouldn't have agreed to this."

Kouga gripped onto the steering wheel tighter. "Rin, I like you and all. You're a great friend…one _hell_ of a friend…but I'm not gonna go as far as to messing with Sesshoumaru for you. If you know what I mean."

"Don't be so melodramatic. I'd never hire you as an assassin. You're not exactly a dead-mark."

"In that case—and you know how I hate to disappoint—let's hear what you have in mind."

"Oh, you'll see. I'm still thinking what will be an apropos punishment for you," I teased.

"Ah, I can't wait. You're such a bitch."

"Exactly."

A moment's pause. Kouga veered around the driver in front of us. I pushed against the seat, hanging on for life.

"Listen Rin," he began, "I really am sorry…about last time."

"It's okay. I forgive you. And you're paying for it now."

He smirked devilishly. "Don't I know it."

Dinner consisted mostly of some extremely uninspired conversation (Kouga and I were both not in the mood for extensive philosophical discourses) and him ravenously devouring his steak. I grimaced at the demonic—pardon the pun—ferocity he exhibited and berated Kouga about his deplorable table manners. Food wasn't of paramount concern for me. However, my wine glass received an intense workout as our waiter incessantly filled it as the night crept along. Throughout the years, I had developed an extensive tolerance of most alcohol and liquors with the only entity that I cannot stand being beer. The taste never appealed to my tongue.

I kept staring at Kouga's steady, uninterrupted eating and almost asked him why he was able to stomach human food when most youkai loathed the taste. Seriously. His fork never strayed far from plate or mouth. To prevent any nasty occurrences, we kept up a tedious dialogue about our equally tedious lives. It wasn't difficult to fill in some of the vaguer details. I had to restrain from looking over my shoulder every other minute, checking for some elusive stranger stalking us.

After dinner, we attended the opening performance of _Swan Lake_ by the Russian Ballet troupe, honoring Tokyo for some ambiguous festival or another. It had been quite some years since they last performed in Japan. There had been a controversial "incident". My feet were cut into thin red lines by my stilettos' vile straps. Forever, women's shoe fashion will carry the ugly stigma of feet deformity, and I was no exception from this punishment. Kouga, ever the cordial gentleman, delivered the keys to his new car to a valet, and accompanied me inside. As to how he had acquired these tickets, I wasn't sure, and I was too happy to ask. Our seats—front row of a left-side viewing balcony (enclosed off just for us)—had spectacular views. Settled into plump velvet seats, dress tucked, and content, I slyly glimpsed over at Kouga and smiled, ready to interrogate. Evidently, he shared the same notions.

"How many times have you seen this ballet, Rin?"

"I don't know. Maybe thirty? Forty? It's my favorite."

"I heard Sesshoumaru took you to Moscow one year, anniversary?"

"Yeah, but I'd rather not talk about that. It was, however, probably the nicest gesture he showed me."

"And how many times have you sat in this box in particular?"

I quickly reconnoitered the area, mentally scribbling down the oak columns, burgundy curtains, and gold-themed décor. Kouga was a wily one; he was insinuating something.

"Oh, I don't know? Why don't you tell me?"

"Twice."

"Really? Is that so. And please tell about the first time," I kept up with his charade.

"First time we met, remember?"

"Kouga, if you're trying to be romantic, why don't you save it for your _wife_? It might actually work on her."

"You think I'm hitting on you?"

"No," I smiled pleasantly, "You're more like the pesky brother I can never exterminate."

"Thinking of what happened the last time?"

"Not at all. I'm trying to watch, so shut up."

I had rapturous silence for another act or so. Kouga, though, was feeling uncharacteristically chatty that night.

"Ayame told me something you said last New Year's, about how you always wished to be Odette but knew you were more like Odile."

"I don't remember that."

"I think you do. And I think you know you're Odile, pure and simple."

"And what would you know about that?"

"Easy. Look at how it plays out for them: Odile almost marries the prince but doesn't. Odette does 'cause she and Siegfried are supposed to end up together, some shit like that. Now, in the conventional version, Odile either dies or you don't hear anything about her. But the real life Odile ends up marrying the king."

I snorted at the ridiculous analogy, lunacy. "Right. So you're going to replace Tchaikovsky and Drigo as the most famous and talented ballet writer in history. Good luck with that."

"A ballet is fantasy, I'm talking about reality."

"Okay, I'll humor you for a second then. Just how the bloody am I Odile according to _your_ definition? Just for clarification, I remarked that with the intention of being _ironic_. I'm just tired of stupid conformists bashing her."

"See, you never hear anything more about her. But she's probably the most mesmerizing character in the play. An enchantress. Sure, she's not as sexy as Odette, but she has more character, more dimension. And that makes you want her _more_. Say that in real life, Odette and Odile are sisters. And Odile falls in love with the prince, but he and Odette are fated to be together. So where does that leave Odile?"

"I don't know. Nowhere."

"Wrong. Think beyond the shallow plotline, Rin. If Siegfried's the prince then who's the king?"

"Wait. There are so many things wrong with your logic I don't even know where to start. So what if Siegfried's the prince? His father is the king."

"Maybe but what if it's his _brother_?"

"Kouga, if you're trying to contort _Swan Lake_ to fit my life, it's not going to work. I think you're going demented."

"Just think about it. I'm only elaborating on the plot. Isn't that what all great artists do? Shape something old into something new?"

"But what you're saying still makes no sense. What exactly are you getting at with this?"

"I think you know more than you think you do. I'm just giving you the basics: imagine you as Odile, Kagome as Odette. You should know who Siegfried and the king are. Then, who is von Rothbart?"

"Odile's father? Are you feeling all right, Kouga?"

"Von Rothbart who gave Odile life and made it miserable for her. Controlled her, though some argue she did things of her own volition, but I doubt that. Von Rothbart who, essentially, started the war. So who is von Rothbart, Rin?"

"I…I don't know."

"Come on, you do know. Who is he, Rin?"

"I—it…can't be. But that's…preposterous. Kouga, you're crazy. Or drunk."

Kouga flashed at me the first genuine smile he presented this night. "Exactly right. You know who it is."

_Who is von Rothbart?_

—_von Rothbart is…_

**Tokyo, Japan: **_**Past**_

Unfortunately, Mama and the rest of the "parental authorities" were unable to attend the ballet with us later that night. We had all sat down through a boring, droning dinner, sipped at fancy cocktails and sucked through lobster-tails. By the time dessert rolled by, I was craving for the simple comforts of my bedroom and a nice warm cup of milk—the perfect cure for any raving insomniac's worst of episodes. However, there was no assuaging, inviting cup of milk in sight, only the futile promises of more swanky dinners and classy attire; they could all just bore me to death. At age sixteen (I had celebrated my birthday quietly at home a month ago), I was having a midlife crisis, which my mother easily dismissed as a teenage tantrum. My sister's opinion of my mood swings were of no higher regard. As long as I "stayed out of her business"—we retrogressed to our usual, brusque mannerisms towards each other—she wouldn't have a problem with me. Otherwise, she thinks tossing me to the ravenous youkai (I assumed she's excluding her fiancé from this threat).

Therefore, after much mundane talks and grooming, all essential parts of high society living, we (that being Sesshoumaru, Kagome, Inuyasha, Souta, and the humble I) stuffed out bloated selves into a limousine that conveniently pulled up just as we stepped outside. I took one last longing look at the hotel and attempted to perk myself up for the evening's events. No such luck. I was a sullen, ungrateful child when I settled down between Inuyasha and Kagome. The former was still in an animated conversation with Souta, and the latter sighed and cooed and did all sorts of obnoxiously promiscuous revelations. I noticed that Sesshoumaru was not impressed and began to wonder as to his reasoning behind this act.

A ballet performance, or any kind of artistic viewing, meant the finest of formal wear, which, in my case, demanded a cascading evening gown and perilous heels. I could suffer through the first (provided that it was backless, scandalous, and gave Mama nearly a coronary thrombosis), but the heels were a tad too much. And even I wasn't brazen enough to scuttle across the high waxed marble floors of the theater entrance like a crab being chased by evil, fishing scavengers. Inuyasha proved to be an excellent escort, even held me awkwardly between my wrist and elbow, leading me to our seats. Sesshoumaru, for all his annoyances, had one irrefutably charming trait: he could obtain tickets to any show, gala, affair, etc. with the blink of an eye. To this day, I have yet to discover the tricks behind this mystery, though I do appreciate his uncanny ability to overpower the unsuspecting coordinator's mind.

Enclosed in a private balcony (Sesshoumaru and his blushing bride-to-be valiantly volunteered to govern the back row, where she could continue admiring her shining prince), we had the best view in the house. Tickets like these must have cost a fortune, probably equivalent to half of the annual grosses of a small, third-world nation. Nonetheless, Sesshoumaru kindly dictated for us—the peons, Souta, Inuyasha, and the ever glum Rin—to enjoy the show, silently warning us not to bother him. This was an order that need not be said twice. I happily followed it and laid back to watch. However, my well-deserved bliss was interrupted, right when the first dancers pirouetted onto stage too. A tall, strange youkai had slipped into our balcony and was whispering urgently to Sesshoumaru. Kagome looked rather put-out but sufficed with pouting and sighing. She rose, at Sesshoumaru's request, and sulked over to the vacant chair by Souta.

Eavesdropping is normally highly frowned upon by me, but in this circumstance, I was willing to make an exception. Sesshoumaru was right behind me, and the casual stranger thought it would be perfectly safe and confidential for him to talk hoarsely, loudly, in back of an insignificant human girl. Probably assured that humans have no interest in the great dealings of mighty daiyoukai such as themselves.

"Kouga. This is not a good time," Sesshoumaru growled.

"I know. I wouldn't have come if it weren't urgent," the youkai named Kouga replied, equally grouchy, "Your mother…"

(I didn't have supernatural ears. Some were lost to me.)

"…the cow…had it coming to her…"

"How long…three centuries, I heard but…what about…?"

"Dead."

"Sesshoumaru, are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Then what about…are they…too?"

"Most likely."

"What do you plan on…"

"Easy."

The rest of their conversation died out into a dull roar as the auditorium erupted in applause. We entered intermission. The ballerinas and the rare few danseurs faded, voices dying then unfolding, compliments to the prima then the _sujets_ and _coryphées_. I yawned and stretched, the theatrical dimness left me groggy and purblind, lifted my legs onto Inuyasha's lap and received a strong shove. Souta had sauntered off somewhere before the third act was over, muttering about how he loathes _Swan Lake_, how he couldn't believe he was being forced to watch something so ridiculous and frilly, and had not returned. Kagome, too, had disappeared. Sneaking in a final cigarette of the night, I assumed (she was the first and only of the Higurashi sisters to quit the dreadful habit years later). Sesshoumaru had left, and in his place was the mystery youkai.

He grinned when I turned back to inspect him and extended a calloused hand. "Nakamura Kouga. You must be Higurashi Rin. I've heard a lot about you."

Immediately, my eyes narrowed suspiciously. Any acquaintance (or underling) of Sesshoumaru's was a natural enemy of mine. "Hi. Why are you here?"

"Sesshoumaru had to leave on pressing business matters. I'm here to fill his spot. It'd be a shame to let a ticket like this go to waste."

"Do you even _like_ ballet?" I asked, accusatory and not at all mollified or repentant. My family would be horrified at my harsh tone.

"No. But I'm not here to watch, girlie, if you know what I mean."

"_Girlie_? I am _not_—"

"Of course you are. Enjoy the show, Rin. Sesshoumaru told me how much _you_ love ballet. This performance is for you."

I snorted. "_Hardly_. More like having an expedient, private time to smooch with my sister."

Kouga laughed. "I don't think that's his objective. Turn around and watch, Rin."

"It's intermission."

"Then why don't you—"

I cut him off, annoyed already. Ballet was one of my passions. I danced for a bit when I was younger, but I had weak ankles and never debuted professionally. Of course, Mama would have skinned me alive before allowing me to become a "trashy showgirl".

"They sometimes have a short routine at intermission so the audience doesn't get bored and leave."

"I see."

"I'm not really interested in that anyway. What were you and Sesshoumaru talking so cozily about?"

Kouga scowled, his handsome face becoming an ugly rictus. "That's not for you to know."

"But I want to."

"Why the fuck are you so nosy?"

"It's one of my charms."

"Does Sesshoumaru know how incredibly annoying you are?"

"Of course. And he hates it."

"Yet you're still alive."

"It's a miracle, I know. But why are you here, Mr. Wolf? And what was all that about?"

"_What_ did you call me?"

"Mr. Wolf. It suits you. A wolf youkai and all."

"Yeah, I _know_ what I am. Who the hell do you think you are giving random people stupid nicknames? Aren't you at all afraid?"

"Not really. I don't think you'll hurt me."

"Why is that?"

"I think you were sent here to protect me, and my family. Am I right?"

He didn't respond, a tell-tale sign that I was accurate. I know I was being terribly mean, bossy, and insufferable, but I didn't care. I was curious (Mama always said it will be the death of me).

"Rin, I'm telling you right now," Mr. Wolf cordially continued but didn't finish when we heard a crash. My surmised prophecy came true.

The ballet troupe froze, in mid motion, and screams began. Gunshots were heard, the curtains coming undone, people scrambled for the door. The ballerinas flung themselves off the stage or dived deeper, behind the towering, stiff curtains. Chaos was everywhere. The stench, burning, acrid and guilty, tang of blood overwhelmed me. Ow. Something stung me, right above the heart. _What was that on my hand?_ My chest felt like it had been splintered raw, jagged pieces cruising freely in my bloodstream (they probably were). The pain was intense, and I was going into shock: _omigod, I've been shot...._But I didn't have time to register what was happening when Kouga knocked me to the floor, grabbing Inuyasha along the way. Inuyasha, who had been snoring quietly away (he wasn't one for the arts either) jolted awake. Eyeing him, Kouga barked out an order, _get Rin out of here and find the others,_ before taking out his own gun.

Knees covered in dust and throbbing from when Kouga forced me into a kneeling position and chest burning, I dared to raise my head slightly—another shot. I ducked before another round commenced. It seemed like they—whoever or whatever they were—were shooting directly at us. I covered my head, crumpled into a tight ball on the floor, and searched frantically for the door. By now, the lights were blown out, and the screams became more vociferous. There was crying, yelling, cursing, so many words and emotions flying out from everywhere. But the gunshots continued. And there was no way to tell where they were coming from. I crawled into a corner, partially concealed and protected by musty curtains, and peeked out to see the commotion. Most of the audience had fled through the large doors, and the other balcony patrons were tearing out of their seats and down hidden stairs. I tried to move, but Kouga or Inuyasha pushed my head down.

"Inuyasha! Keep Rin safe, I'll cover us. We have to get out of here," Kouga commanded.

"Move it, Rin, come on."

Large hands lifted me from the ground. I complied, damning the stupid dress. Inuyasha guided me out of the balcony box, and we blindly ran down the stairs as rapidly as we dared. Kouga was ahead of us, barely, gun out and ready. I clung fiercely to Inuyasha, wrecked with terror and confusion. Three-fourths of the way down, I tripped on the slippery fabric and sank gracelessly, foot twisted under.

"You okay, Rin?" Inuyasha asked, cringing at the smell of blood. My wound was pouring like the Kegon Falls in spring deluges. Light headed, thinking this must be a nightmare.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Let's just get out of here."

I stood up, nauseated from fear and the pain. A moment later, we were by the front entrance, the last of the screaming bunch.

"Wait! Where's Kagome and Souta?" I shrieked, realizing they weren't anywhere in sight.

"Don't worry," Kouga said calmly, "They'll have already gone out. We need to get you somewhere safe. Inuyasha, is the car here yet?"

"Fuck. No, sorry. I'll keep calling."

"Forget it. Get her into a cab now. I'll stay here and…clean things up."

"Mr. Wolf," I began, "thank you."

Mr. Wolf produced a leery, weary wolfish grin. "No problem, kid. Take care. Inuyasha, _go_."

And for cone, Inuyasha deigned to follow someone else's orders. We stepped outside. A slight drizzle had started by now, dampening our clothes as soon as we escaped beyond the awning's meager protection. Step, step, we walked together, Inuyasha holding me up barely as I was on the verge of fainting. The blood kept gushing from my chest; I tried not looking at it. It glared at me, red and mean, pooling around my pressed hand, _this is what you do to stop the bleeding in an emergency_. Cars zipped by us like busy, fat yellow bees. Their numbers, painted in glaring black letters, blurred like the fuzzy inky lines of swollen bees, gorged on pollen.

"Inuyasha…I'm really sorry. I'm pretty much fucking up your suit aren't I?" I grinned stupidly, always making a joke out of dire situations.

"Don't worry about it. Your dress ain't looking so hot anymore either."

"I know. I never liked this dress. But it does make my boobs pop. See?" I puff out my chest like a bird attracting a mate. The crimson splotch spreads, rivulets trickling down my ribs.

"Yeah, sure. Don't do that anymore, you'll just bleed more. Can you walk Rin?"

"Umm…I think so."

I take a step and fall. He catches me at the last second and guides me carefully to an awaiting cab. The man inside honks, yells something profane, and Inuyasha retorts back expertly with another set of expletives.

"Okay, Rin, get in now. Careful, watch your head."

I groan softly and ease my way inside, ducking, and sink into the vomit-smelling, beer-stained leather upholstery. Inuyasha slides in next to me and barks for the driver to move. Traffic had become so congested, patrol cars everywhere, people still running, desperate to see if a loved one has emerged unharmed. Somehow, our little cab squeezed past the million others, still moving at a snail's pace but steadily charging towards the hospital. My dress was so soaked in blood now that the black silk has become a russet, burnished brown mess, sticky and reeking of coppery gunk. My hand was trembling so terribly that Inuyasha had to keep applying the pressure. Neck tense, vein throbbing, breathing becoming shallower, everything starting to gray out.

"Inuyasha. If I die, make sure there are no roses at my funeral."

"You're not going to die, Rin."

"I know. I'm just saying," I murmur, exhausted, before drifting into unconscious sleep.

…

"_Shhh_! You'll wake her up, Souta!"

"Ouch Kagome! Quit hitting me, okay?"

"Then stop _screaming_ and keep still!"

"Both of you, _out_."

"Mama!"

"I'm not kidding, Souta, Ka_go_me. Be quiet or get out."

I tossed and turned, grabbing at the empty air. My head was about to explode, pumping blood out of every orifice. I sucked in breath, immediately regretting it. The white bandages on my chest began to bloom as fresh blood stained them.

"Ow. Kagome, Souta. Are you guys okay?"

"We're fine," Kagome said, "Oh god, Rin. We thought you were going to _die_. You were in surgery for six hours. You took a shot right at the heart, nearly. Missed it by like an _inch_."

"I'm okay. I think. Just hurts a lot. What happened?"

Souta sighed and brought me the cup of water lying by the bed. "Drink. I don't know. I left, couldn't stand that dumb stuff a second longer, Rin. Sorry. And Kagome followed me not much later. We were already outside when the panic began. We heard shouts from inside and then a bunch of people were running outside, screaming like crazy. We thought someone died."

"Someone _did_ die," Kagome added grimly.

I shakily grabbed for her hand. She squeezed back firmly, holding it. "Who was it?" I whispered hoarsely.

"We're not sure," Kagome admitted, "Rin, I am _so_ glad you're okay. I—I'm sorry I wasn't there. I—"

"It's okay. Not your fault. So did they find out who did it? Like what the hell happened and why?"

Kagome shook her head adamantly, seething. "Not a clue. But err…they _did_ think it was aimed at someone in our balcony." Her stance shifted slightly.

"_What_" Mama shrieked, hands flying. I sensed a volcano of tears coming.

"Souta…take Mama outside, please. I need to tell Rin something in private."

Souta grumbled about always having to find things out last but led our mother into the hallway. He knew better than to keep her there, which inevitably would lead to hysterics and much consolations on our part.

"Rin, listen to me carefully. Sesshoumaru thinks…he thinks that the killer was aiming at Inuyasha. And you got caught in the middle."

"_Inuyasha_? But why?"

"We don't know. But he was the one sitting next to you. And when the assailant noticed he shot _you_ instead, he ceased direct fire. The rest of the rounds were merely used as scare tactics. He's already killed someone else, and he wasn't going to risk exposure. Also, your wound isn't fatal for a reason. Something to this degree was done by a professional, someone who wouldn't have missed usually. The police and theater security still don't have any idea who was behind it. But when you shifted, Inuyasha tells me, he must have lost his mark."

"So you're telling me that someone just tried to assassinate _Inuyasha_? But why the hell would anyone wanna kill _him_? He's just some high school kid. He's not a multi-zillionaire, whatever. He's not…oh god, Kagome. Do you think the target was actually Sesshoumaru? I mean, they look awfully alike and everything and…and."

"No. We've ruled that out. If they were aiming at him, they would have fired a long time ago. But they purposely waited until most of us left. Meaning, they don't want unnecessary casualties. Just Inuyasha."

"That's…that's crazy. I think I need to lie down."

"Okay. Try to sleep, Rin. I'll be back. Oh, and Sesshoumaru will be coming here later too. He has….some questions he wants to ask."

I groaned. This was going to be one hellish night.

I did manage to sleep some, rather deeply too. Around four fifty a.m., I woke up to a thumping outside my door. I tried to lift my body, to see what it was, but sharp ebbs of pain spread all across my chest extending to my shoulders and ribs. I grasped onto the hospital bed's railing for support and raised myself into a slouched-sitting position. My neck hurt too much for agile movement, but if slowly turned, I could see the room clearly. It was a standard hospital room; I was thankful it was a private one. Two bouquets of lush flowers graced the spindly table across from the bed. A vile, bloody stench alerted me that my dress was stashed in a plastic bag on the floor, under the chair. Few sounds reverberated from the hallway except for the occasional teetering of a night nurse or the shuffling of an old man journeying to some recondite destination.

Abruptly, the light directly outside my door flickered on. I pushed back into the fluffed pillows, suppressing the desperate urge to retch. Muffled voices emerged. A hesitant female one, trying to assert her authority, but was intercepted by a lower, colder one. He silenced her immediately and entered quietly, letting a stream of soft light infiltrate the room. I shielded my eyes from the brightness, vacillating between feigning sleep or demanding who the hell this guy thought he was.

"I'm sorry, but…" I coughed out.

He walked right up to me, not speaking, stealthily, and hugged me. Close, tight. Like I was going to disappear any second now. My hands went limp, unable to reciprocate the gesture—as for me, I was completely lost for words.

"Umm…who…?"

Silver hair falls all over me like a sleek blanket of fine silken threads. _Oh you. _I instinctively reach up for the puppy-ears, only to find nothing.

"Sesshoumaru."

He remained silent. I relaxed in his arms, both perplexed and feeling completely secure. He held me for another minute then released. I lean back against the pillows and watched his retreating back combine with the unsettling darkness. Too tired to ponder what just happened, I fell into sleep easily, not caring for once.

**Tokyo, Japan: **_**Present**_

Not entirely satisfied with our date, I insisted that Kouga let me take him to a bar, get him happy and drunk, so I can grill some answers out of him. He complies, only because he is cocky enough to think he has a stomach of steel and incapable of becoming inebriated. After a couple of Molotov coupled with good, old-fashioned sake, he was turning ruddier and slurring his words more (not that Kouga was ever the naturally florid type). And so, in a muted, dusty bar, I played innocent and sweet, beguiling him with my supposed charms. He was not fooled for a second.

"You know, I've only ever been shot two times in my life. I think that's pretty phenomenal, don't you think?" I said, sucking on a brackish, wrinkled olive.

"If you say so. Although, I think most people don't get shot even _once_."

"Well, that's because they don't know such charismatic, cavalier bad-boys like you around. Oh and my inscrutably sexy and intrepid husband."

"Aren't you at all afraid of me?"

"Kouga, we've been over this before. Why would I be afraid of you? Sure, you were the second person to shoot me, but that's ancient history. And, as I recall, you said the last time: it was out of your hands. Not your decision at all."

"Or maybe I'm just a damned good liar."

"Nope. Otherwise, you would have persuaded Kagome to sleep with you by now. Don't worry, I'll never tell Ayame."

"Stop bitching at me, Rin, what do you want anyway?"

"I'm a very straightforward and forthright girl."'

He snorted in contempt.

I continued, letting the insult slide, "I want to know about the woman called Midoriko."

Kouga stiffened considerably. He fumbled for a cigarette, which I happily supplied (I was getting close; I've never seen him so fidgety and uncomfortable).

"Rin, I don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't play dumb. I'm clueless but not _that_ stupid. I heard Sesshoumaru mention her couple of times on the phone. Something about a jewel? Care to share, Mr. Wolf?"

"No."

"Don't be a spoilsport. I just want to know her relevance to me…to everything that has happened. I really wouldn't mind if it turned out she and Sesshoumaru are having some sordid, steamy affair,"

He cringed. "It's not….like that. Stop being so dirty, Rin."

"Then what?"

"She's…I can't say."

"Why not? Look, I won't _tell_ anyone about this conversation, if that's what you're worried about. I just want to know who she is."

"She's—was—a miko."

"You mean like a shrine priestess? Like Kagome? Grandpa tried to get us to enroll into some program like that a couple years back."

"No. I mean. She's…I don't know how to describe it. It was before my time."

"Whoa. You mean she's dead?"

"No. Wait, ah, forget it. Just forget what I said."

"Come on, Mr. Wolf, spill the beans. Is she dead or is she alive? She can't be, what, some kind of zombie."

He looked at me darkly. "Maybe that's what she is."

"Ha-ha. Okay, stop it. So, let's say that she's dead, she was 'before your time'. So what? Is that all? 'Cause I highly doubt that."

"Fuck, can't you ever let things go, Rin?"

"Nope. It's that stubborn streak of mine. Anyway, why is Sesshoumaru so hot for her?"

"She kind of…took something from him."

"But she's dead."

"Yeah, and never returned it."

"Okay. So he wants it back now? That's understandable. But what does that have to do with me?"

"You'll have to find that out for yourself."

"That's a trite line, Kouga. Then can you tell me what exactly this 'thing' is?"

"Nope."

"I'm lamenting ever having hired you."

"Sweetheart, that was up to _your_ judgment. I said I'd talk, but I didn't elaborate on what I can and cannot say. I'm trying to help you, Rin, I really am. But you have to understand, I can't talk about certain things."

"Fine, forget about the Mighty Midoriko. Why does Sesshoumaru keep refusing to give me a divorce?"

"Ask him yourself."

"Damn it, Kouga, quit doing that. You think I haven't asked him already? I've asked him like a million times, and _never_ do I get a straight-up answer. That's why _you're_ here, in case you forgot."

"Well, then I can't say. But, listen, Rin, I'm telling you this as a _friend_: you need to loosen up and let things go. All this hate, this bitterness, it's not doing you any good. If you keep harboring it inside, it'll just eat you up. And that ain't gonna be pretty."

"I'm bitter for a reason. A _good_ reason."

"I know, I know. Don't snap my head off, god."

"Sorry. So what _can_ you tell me?"

"Not much. Except…do you remember an old man named Toutousai?"

"Yeah, the youkai."

"Old as fuck and knows everything that's happened since the dawn of time. If you've got questions, he's your best bet. And he's not so tied up in other matters as to keep quiet. If you can pay, he'll speak."

"Money, I've got."

"I'm not talking about money. He's old and talented, the last of his kind. And he'll be needing some raw materials, his eyes aren't what they used to be—so he says."

"What kind of materials?"

"Raw bones peeled from youkai flesh."

I winced. _Shit_. There was no way I could ever pull off a stunt like that.

"Come on, Rin, I'll drive you home, and you can think all about how to accomplish your goal."

Kouga's sneering laugh resounded against the night sky as we gathered ourselves and left the bar. I pushed past old whores, drunk and drugged, and debauched patrons. My heels clicked along the pavement in a rapid, erratic staccato. Kouga called behind me, telling me to wait up. (I had tipped double and walked a steady half block ahead of him—damn, flashy car was parked three streets away—not in the mood for any inane comments or jokes.) He had given me a lot to think about.

Bones were a tricky subject and youkai bones even worse. Luckily, I knew just the person to pilfer them from.


End file.
